


Zoey's Extraordinary Orientation

by Adohug



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, Overstimulation, Panic Attack, Queer Character, Zoey has anxiety you cannot change my mind, aroace zoey, ill add more tags as i add more chapters, many queer characters actually, we love max knowing her tells and tidbits, zoey just really loves her friends okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28845483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adohug/pseuds/Adohug
Summary: The two share a smile, but Zoey’s quickly fades out as the background music of a song fades in.Then, Max starts singing.After a while, she’s sure that it’s alove song, and it’s only after the song ends and he walks over to the cake that she realizeshe doesn’t know.Oh, fuck.Or: Music powers are hard enough on Canon!Zoey, but there's another layer of complication at play in this world.Or or: aroace!Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist
Relationships: Simon Haynes/Jessica, Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke & Simon Haynes
Comments: 29
Kudos: 31





	1. Episodes 1-3

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ZEP fic! This started out as a oneshot on thursday, then i looked up at my wordcount to find 6k words and 17 pages for two and a half episodes, and I decided to make this a fourshot.
> 
> Won't be much canon divergence _yet_ , but I did embellish and re-write scenes to fit my (rather loose) plans. General idea: if I didn't touch a scene here, it happened just like in canon.

Okay, today could _not_ get any weirder. Zoey immediately knocks on wood once the thought crosses her mind, just to be safe. That garners a glance from Max at his desk, but a small smile his way and he seems satisfied that she’s okay.

At least… that’s what she _thinks_ that expression is? Five years of friendship, and she still can’t even tell anything about her best friend’s facial expressions. She can’t help but think about this morning during their normal coffee rendezvous. 

_“And a black coffee for me. I’m keeping it clean for the cuties,” Max orders his coffee with a wink at the barista._

_“It says that on his dating profile,” Zoey adds with a smile._

_She and Max share a quick glance as he mutters out “Yeah, it does,” as the barista finishes ringing them up._

And then they got to work, and she said “howdy” to the new guy, and her promotion interview was almost a complete trainwreck, and she had these headaches, and--

“Zo,” A voice break her out of her thoughts, and she looks up to see that one, the office is almost empty, and two, Max is standing at her desk. “You good? It’s time to clock out.”

Zoey checks the time herself and shakes her head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Uh, my headache came back, I spaced out.” She packs up quickly and joins Max. “I’m visiting my dad tonight, want to come?”

Max shakes his head. “No, you should spend as much time as you can with him as a family, I’d just split your attention.”

“Max, you _know_ how many times Mom has said that you’re family.”

“I know. I’ll visit Mitch soon, I swear, but I’ll leave you to it tonight.”

At this point, they need to part ways, but Zoey offers him a smile that doesn’t feel quite forced. “Open invitation, remember that!”

\-----------------------------

To the detriment of her claustrophobia, and to the joy of her mother and her darker thoughts, Zoey finds herself in an MRI machine in the middle of an earthquake. After being pulled out (and then put right back in to actually finish the scan), she’s relieved to find that her headaches are just stress headaches.

She is _not_ relieved to have a crowd of _strangers_ sing a Beatles song and chase her down a street.

After panicking and confiding with _Mo_ of all people, Zoey shakes herself out as she makes her way into work the next day. She just needs to focus on work, maybe it was a one time thing? Maybe-- 

“I have never seen anyone that full of energy at nine thirty on a Tuesday,” Max’s voice interrupts her mental pep talk. She follows his gaze (and the sound of happiness) to the new guy playing ping-pong with some other suits.

She tilts her head as he wins another point. “He does have a certain joie de vivre.”

“Do we have joie de vivre?” Max asks as they continue towards their desks.

“I don’t think we’re really joie de vivre people,” Zoey barely gets to respond before Tobin and Leif ambush them, which directly leads to a very big problem in the SPRQwatch, which directly leads to the sun long gone and Zoey and Leif as the only coders still working. Zoey looks up at one point, brain _this_ close to frying, and her gaze lands on Leif’s bike helmet.

“Hey, Leif, where’d you get that sticker?” He looks up in confusion at her non sequitur and she gestures to the bi flag sticker. 

“Oh that? Just… online, I can’t remember the exact site. Why?”

“Just… thinking about something,” She explains, but before she has the chance to explain further (if at all), she hears some music start up somewhere in the background. “Hey, do you… hear something?”

Zoey takes his confused look for a no, and manages to slip away and follow the music when Leif’s focus returns to his code. The song brings her to… the new guy? Oh, jeez, she’s seen that face enough times around her dad to know that _that_? That is sorrow. 

She turns her head, the thought about her dad a little… too much to deal with, and only looks back when the music ends, surprised by the… normalcy of his office.

She needs to find Mo. 

\-----------------------------

“I just don’t get it,” Zoey’s half-screaming over the music, even though Mo is, like, two feet away from her. “This guy is… he looks so happy, and healthy, and fun. Why is he singing something so sad?”

“Is he hot?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Mo gives her a look, which she can’t decipher at all, but it’s obvious that he won’t help her unless she answers.

“I don’t really have the right processors to be able to know if someone is hot or not, Mo.” She slips into computer talk, oops, but it gets the point across.

Mo seems to take it in stride, however, and _finally_ answers. “Maybe your powers aren’t just about how someone _seems_ to feel, but how they _really_ feel. So this happy-healthy-fun maybe-hot man might not be as happy-healthy-fun as he appears to be. Ever think of that?”

Well… “When it’s laid out like that, it sounds so obvious. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

Zoey gestures to everything in general, reaching for words. “Understand emotions.”

Mo pauses for a moment and gives her an odd look. “I think I know why _you_ got these powers.”

\-----------------------------

She _thought_ she was prepared for anything, deep-talk wise with Simon, but she didn’t expect to bond over dead and dying dads on top of stressing out over the SPRQwatch malfunction. 

But… it’s a mad world.

(Yeah, she’s angry at herself for that pun.)

So, she finds herself sitting with her dad, rambling about the craziness of her life, knowing that he doesn’t understand what she’s saying. That thought shuts her throat, and she has to force a deep breath in order not to cry. Zoey can’t even _look_ at him.

She stands up abruptly and heads to the other side of the room, where pictures hang and remind everyone of what once was. She focuses on one that’s from a boating trip back in high school; it’s just her and her dad, smiling into the camera.

It’s while Zoey stares at the picture that she hears a voice that she never thought she’d hear in person again. She turns around, surprised, to find her dad _singing_ to her, and then he stands up and _moves_ \--

By the end of the song, she’s a crying mess, but it’s suddenly that much easier to be there with him.

Understanding people is easy when it’s her dad.

\-----------------------------

“You figured out the glitch! That deserves celebration, Zo,” Max continues, waiting by the elevator with her. He’s been trying to convince her to go out to dinner for the last hour of work.

“And _I_ keep saying, Max, that I already have dinner plans tonight, and we’re all going on the boat tomorrow. I’m booked!” Only her stubbornness is keeping the argument going at this point; he wore her down fifteen minutes ago.

Max gives her an incredulous look, tone all teasing. “You? A social life?”

“Who’s social life are we talking about?” A third voice chimes from behind them, and Zoey turns around to see Simon joining them waiting for the elevator.

Zoey rolls her eyes. “Max here doesn’t seem to believe that I’m too busy this weekend with family stuff to get dinner with him, _but_ ,” She turns to Max, “if you want to go get dinner with someone that badly, why not go with Simon?”

Simon puts a hand up with a smile. “I’d love to, really, but I don’t think my fiancée would appreciate being stood up.”

“Ooh, fiancée? When’s the wedding?” Max tilts his head, happy to engage in conversation as the elevator opens up and the three step in.

Zoey’s brow furrows. “I didn’t know you were engaged. Congrats.”

Simon shrugs. “It hadn’t come up in conversation yet. And, uh, the engagement itself is still fairly new, we haven’t picked a date.”

“You’re still new, right? Let me take you out for drinks,” Max insists. “Not tonight, since you have plans, but soon. Both as a ‘Welcome to SPRQpoint’ and a ‘congrats.’”

Zoey just watches with a smile as her best friend and her new friend get to know each other, but has to look away as the elevator reaches ground floor. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. I really do need to go. See you on Monday!”

As she walks away, her thoughts turn to the men she left behind. That little moment wouldn’t have happened without this singing mess. Maybe… maybe it’s not so bad?

\-----------------------------

“Max!” Zoey doesn’t care how unprofessional it is to rush into work as excited as she is; this can’t wait. 

Max looks up from his desk at her approach, a smile on his face. “There’s our new team lea-”

She cuts him off, hand on his arm. “Max, he _moved_!”

“Wait, really? That means--”

“Something’s working.” Her smile threatens to split her face. “I wanted to tell you right away, but I felt like I should tell you in person.”

“Well, now we _really_ have to celebrate,” Max teases. “Figuring out the glitch, your dad’s progress, your new promotion… Speaking of!” he stands up and spins her around, where she notices how the rest of the programmers are all hanging out around Tobin’s desk where a sheet cake is resting. “Welcome, team leader!”

“Don’t let the collaborative look fool you,” Tobin says, “Max brought everything in and asked for one dollar from all of us and to look like we helped.”

Leif smacks him in the back of the head like that one guy from NCIS (her dad loves that show). “We would have done more,” he amends, “But Max didn’t give us the chance to.”

“Well, I appreciate that you guys all care enough to even think about this,” Zoey says, meaning it. “But, as new team leader,” She sends a teasing glance at Max, “I’m obligated to hurry this celebration up. Divvy up the cake and let’s get cracking!”

As the programmers start to swarm the cake with Tobin in the lead, she pulls Max aside and they head back to his desk. “I just wanted to say thanks,” She confesses. “This week has been… crazy, and I’m not sure if I would have made it through without you. I couldn’t have asked for a better best friend.” 

The two share a smile, but Zoey’s quickly fades out as the background music of a song fades in. 

Then, Max starts singing.

After a while, she’s sure that it’s a _love song_ , and it’s only after the song ends and he walks over to the cake that she realizes _he doesn’t know_.

Oh, fuck.

\-----------------------------

“And I’m pretty sure he sang a love song to me?” Zoey finishes her ramble, finally, and Mo spins around when he senses she’s near her end. “But he said _I think I love you_ a lot, so maybe he’s uncertain? Ugh,” she groans, putting her head in her hands, “I hate feelings.”

“Girl, do you even _like_ boys?” Mo chooses to focus on _that_ instead of anything else she mentioned in her vent, and all Zoey can do is shake her head. 

“I… I’ve dated like, two guys? And a few girls, and a non-binary person, but nothing felt right,” She confesses. “I’m still looking for a label.”

Mo hums in acknowledgement. “And you haven’t told your best friend because…”

“Because I’m a coder who works in definites and would rather have not told anyone until I knew how to describe it in definitive language yet you pulled it out of me within our first week of friendship?” Zoey answers in one breath, shrugging at him. 

“Damn, you’ve got a set of lungs. Can you sing at all?”

“Mo.”

“Alright, dropped for now. How are you going to deal with this newfound information?”

Zoey sighs, picking up her purse and moving towards her door. “I’m going to ignore it until he tells me outside of singing. Nothing’s changed outside of it, so it won’t be a big problem. Right?”

Mo follows her. “Sounds like you’re convincing yourself.”

“No I’m not.” Yes she is.

“I need caffeine before I can examine your denial. Can we go somewhere during your lunch break?”

“We can meet at the Golden Gate Grind? It’s Max and I’s regular spot.”

“Sounds bougie. I’m in.”

\-----------------------------

Her morning _could_ be going better, but she has _no idea_ what just happened in her team meeting, or in Simon’s office.

She retreats to behind the cereal bar to grab a breakfast, not staring at anything in particular as her brain runs at a million miles per hour like usual. She could delegate different parts of the scavenger hunt to her team and make sure they stay on track through routine check-ins, but how are they going to account for the human error? What if-

“Hey, Zo,” She turns around, thoughts interrupted by Max approaching. 

She recalls his songs to her before she has the chance to bury them, leading to the awkward greeting of “Hey… friendo!” 

As she cringes internally, Max keeps talking. “Guess what? I just won the lottery!”

“I was unaware that you… did the lottery?”

“No,” He corrects with a laugh, “The restaurant lottery. I finally got us a spot at that farm-to-table place.”

Zoey blinks in astonishment. “You got us into Hand Picked?”

“Yeah! This Thursday at eight,” He clarifies, excited. “So, is it a date?”

She wants to say yes immediately, because trying out new food is her and Max’s thing. Everyone knows it. But she’s suddenly reminded of the fact that she’s his boss, now. 

If she had any emotional awareness, she might have said something that gave across her excitement but still reminded them both of their new work dynamic.

Instead, what comes out of her mouth is “ _Is_ it a date?”

“What?” His confusion is obvious, but he’s still smiling. Hopefully, that’s a good sign. “No, it’s just us, Zo.” 

“Right, right, just us,” She repeats. “Sorry for being… weird about it, I…” What is she trying to say?

Max saves her, yet again. “Are you freaking out because of your promotion?”

“In… part?” She looks away, gathering her thoughts. “I know it’s _our thing_ , but the way you framed it sounded like it would be… romantic?”

“Which could have caused problems, you’re right,” Max finishes her thoughts in the uncanny way only he can (why couldn’t _he_ have these stupid song powers?). “Well, would you be comfortable going with me anyways?”

Why can’t she have emotional awareness? Why can’t she do this stuff as effortlessly as him? Instead of asking those questions, she asks, “Can you let me think on it?”

“Of course.” 

\-----------------------------

“He sang Sucker? That song’s hot,” Mo comments. They’re waiting in line at the Golden Gate Grind, and Zoey’s just finished explaining the first disaster of the morning to him. At that comment, she tilts her head.

“It is?” Mo gives her a weird look, but seems to remember this morning and just nods. “What… qualifies as a hot song?”

“If it’s about doin’ the do or how badly you _want_ to do the do with someone, it’s hot,” Mo explains. “That’s my opinion, so it’s the correct one. Speaking of, have you figured out any more rules about your powers? I’m trying to keep notes.”

“That’s completely unre- y’know what? I’ll take the subject change,” Zoey stops herself, (secretly) happy to stop talking about _that word_. “And… it’s weird. Sometimes it’s like time freezes, and other times it’s like the song happens _instead_ of whatever is actually being said.”

Mo is rapt as she talks, taking a step forward with the line without looking up. “Is that all for now?”

Just as Zoey nods, music trickles into her awareness, and she looks around. Just as she’s about to give up, a familiar voice starts singing, and she angles her body to look around the person in front of her to see…

“Uh, Mo?” She keeps staring at the singer- well, singers, since more people are joining in.

“Wait, is a song happening _right now_? And you’re talking to me?”

“Yeah, I’m confused too, I’ve never seen a heartsong do this.”

“Heartsong?”

“I just coined the term.”

“I’ll allow it.”

The song ends by the time Zoey’s next in line, and she steps up to the counter. “Hey, Autumn, how are you doing?”

Autumn, the barista who was the first to sing, smiles brightly at her. “Hey, Zo! Your usual?” With a quick affirmation, she starts doing her job while answering. “And I’m fine, thanks for asking. Maybe a little lonely, haven’t really seen anyone since we broke up.”

She can practically feel the questioning look Mo gives her, but she ignores it for now and follows Autumn over to the side while she’s making her drink. Another barista takes over Autumn’s spot at the register and takes Mo’s order. “Sorry to hear that. Is it just that no one’s stuck, or… was it me?”

“What? No!” Autumn looks up for a second to reassure her. “No, I can promise that it’s not you. You didn’t know that romance and dating weren’t your things, and it’s not like we even got to the point where we said ‘I love you,’ you know?”

Zoey nods. “Right, I know that, logically.” She looks down at her hands, fidgeting. “Still…”

“Zoey, I don’t blame you,” Autumn reassures her. “You didn’t know. And if it took us breaking up to figure out how to be a little more true to yourself? I’m all in for that, you know how much I love self-discovery.”

She lets out a small laugh. “I remember. Thank, Autumn. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there again, okay? You’ll find someone who’ll click.”

With a few more exchanges the conversation ends, and Zoey rejoins Mo at the door of the shop. “So,” Mo begins, “You and Autumn?”

“We dated for a few months, yeah,” Zoey confesses. “She was my longest relationship, actually, _and_ my most recent, but the breakup was amicable, so I didn’t lose my favorite coffee shop, even if I avoided it for a few days out of common courtesy.”

“What did you tell Max about it?”

“I just said we broke up amicably. Like I’ve said, I wanted a word before I told him.” They’re just wandering, drinking their coffees and talking. “Actually, I have a dilemma regarding Max. He asked me if I wanted to go to Hand Picked with him, and I said I’d get back to him.”

“He got into that place?” Mo shoots her a glance. “Why didn’t you immediately answer?”

Zoey swirls her cup a little bit, gathering her thoughts. “I told him that it could be seen as weird, with my promotion, even though all of the programmers know we’re best friends and go get food together all the time.”

Mo hums. “And you’re sure his… heartsongs have nothing to do with your hesitation?”

“I… don’t know,” She confesses.

“That’s a start. Now let’s find a place to sit down and talk about this.”

\-----------------------------

“Alright team, end of the day recap! How’s our progress on the coding?”

Leif pipes up first. “We’ve got a good idea of our general outline, it’s about the details now. Any update on locations?”

“I’ll get a list from Simon first thing tomorrow and hand it out,” Zoey replies. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Tobin says, “Max and I figured out an algorithm that’ll help us route the shortest path between each stop in the scavenger hunt, which’ll speed up the process.”

“Great!” She looks around her team and figures out that they’re done with the updates. “We made a lot of good progress today, team, we can call it a night. Go us!”

As the programmers pack up, Max makes his way over to her desk. “Hey, _boss_ ,” He greets, earning a glare with no bite and a badly-hidden smile which he returns, “Any updates on the Hand Picked front?”

“Yes, actually,” She turns and gives him her undivided attention. “Thursday at 8, right?” At his nod, she continues. “We need a working prototype of the hunt to present by Friday morning, then we’ll have a few days next week to fine-tune before the hunt really begins. _So,_ barring any problems with our coding pace that don’t require an all-nighter by most or all of us, I think I can take you up on your offer for dinner.”

Max’s smile widens. “Great! And, uh, I was thinking, if you really don’t want people to misconstrue our dinner plans, we could always go incognito,” He jokes, and she laughs. “I saw that you had a Golden Gate Grind cup after your lunch break.”

“Oh, yeah, Mo and I went together. Autumn was working, actually, and we talked a little while she made my drink.” 

They’re heading towards the elevators, accidentally the last two programmers to leave. “Okay, I have a few questions,” Max replies. “One, who’s Mo? Two, did Autumn drop everything and make your drink again? And three, are you sure she’s okay? I know you have a hard time with parsing other people’s emotions.”

“Mo is my neighbor, but I think we’re becoming friends?”

“That raises more questions, but you haven’t answered my other two yet.”

She elbows him in the ribs. “I’m allowed to have more than one friend, you know. Autumn and I were friends first, remember?”

Max holds his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going there. _But_ , since you brought up Autumn…”

Zoey can’t help but roll her eyes as they step into the elevator. “Well, Autumn was supposed to man the register, but ended up making my drink, so I think that answers question two.”

“Man, it was really funny to watch her shiftmates scramble to deal with that while you were dating.”

“Was it? I was too focused on talking to her.”

“Of course you were. And question three?”

Zoey pauses and thinks for a moment, trying to summarize her certainty without exposing her power. “She’s really trying to put herself out there, but isn’t having the best luck. Overall she seems happy, though?” Max finally seems satisfied with her answer, just in time to leave the elevator.

“So, give me details on Mo. When can I meet them?”

“First of all, Mo uses he/him pronouns, so jot that down. Second-”

\-----------------------------

She loses track of time on Thursday. She’s not sure _how_ or _when_ , but progress close to stopped on the scavenger hunt, so she sits down and gets to work, trying to make up for lost time and do the job of an entire department after everyone else leaves.

Well, nearly everyone.

“Zoey, it’s seven thirty.”

“Is it?” She mumbles, not looking up. “I didn’t notice.”

“C’mon, Zo,” Max tries again, “let’s take a dinner break.”

Zoey shakes her head, fingers never slowing. “If I stop now I’m gonna lose my rhythm, and then this won’t be done in time for the pitch tomorrow, and-”

“And you have single handedly saved our asses by getting this project ninety percent completed today, _alone_ ,” Max interrupts. Suddenly he’s behind her computers, drawing her eyes from the screen instinctively. “You already have enough to present tomorrow, even if it’s not _as_ completed as you’d like. We’ll have next week to fine-tune as a team. Take a break, come to dinner. If you’re still stressed out, we can come back after and keep going, and I’ll be helping you,” he insists.

Zoey wants to argue, and starts a feeble rebuttal, but her stomach growls and ruins any argument she could have made. With a sigh of defeat, she saves and stands up. “Fine.”

Max seems satisfied, and they head out of the building in silence, the last two people there. They’re halfway to the restaurant before she speaks again. “Am I a bad manager?”

The fact that Max doesn't immediately deny it sends a spike of fear through her. Logically, she knows he’s only gathering his thoughts, and normally she can rely on her logic brain.

(For some reason, it’s not her logic brain in charge right now.)

“I think you’re a _new_ manager,” He eventually says. Zoey looks up (it’s always up, she’s ridiculously short) at him, confused. “You’re doing great with the delegation. You had a good start with the journals. But… we’re not used to you doing rounds every five minutes and hovering over our shoulders. It’s like…”

Zoey stays silent while he’s searching for words, not quite getting it.

“It’s like your hesitance to agree to Hand Picked,” He settles on. “You’re not just another programmer anymore, so we’re _all_ adjusting to the new dynamic and trying to figure out where we stand with you.”

“So it’s… a trust thing?” That would line up with something Simon said earlier today...

Before Max can respond, they arrive at the restaurant. “Ah, I’m gonna have to invoke our ‘no work talk’ rule here, Zo.”

Instead of sticking her tongue out at him (because she is a _mature adult_ , thank you very much), Zoey rolls her eyes. His words still echo around her head, but she has enough practice ignoring the uncomfortable from her entire life so she can switch topics as they enter and are led to their table. “Fine. Thoughts on the _Invader Zim_ movie?”

“Now _that_ trainwreck I can accommodate.”

\-----------------------------

They end up going back to SPRQpoint after dinner. Zoey’s genuinely surprised to see that the break helped her focus and drive, and with Max’s help she’s happy enough with the hunt to leave around midnight. She wants to fall into bed the minute she walks into her apartment, but stays up just a little longer to plan something out for after the meeting. If her team doesn’t know how to feel about her, maybe she should let her team know how _she_ feels about _them_.

(It’s stupid, but she likes the little smile that makes its way to her face when she thinks of the programmers as _her team_. Because she’s their boss, yeah, but it’s a reminder of the trust that should be there and the connection they’ll have eventually, if all goes according to plan tomorrow.)

She manages about six hours of sleep, but gets up and heads to work early. She’s happy with the state of the hunt for the pitch, but she and Simon had a small text conversation and agreed to meet up and go over their plan for the pitch over coffee.

She just finishes sending Max a text with an apology for bailing on their normal coffee run as she reaches the Fourth Floor, and looks up at the cry of “Zoey!”

She finds Simon standing in the doorway of his office, also holding a coffee. She heads over with a smile. “You certainly look better rested than me,” She jokes.

“With how stressed you looked when I left last night, I’m surprised you didn’t pull an all-nighter.”

“Thank Max for that. He pulled me away for a meal and my pace tripled after. I was able to leave around midnight, _with_ a functional scavenger hunt,” She finishes as she sits down. Simon follows with a smile, already pulling out a tablet.

As he pulls up his notes, he replies, “I’ll make sure to thank Max when I see him, finally set up a time to get that drink he offered.”

“You haven’t gone yet?”

“Been busy planning my engagement party. You and Max both have invites, by the way.”

She smiles, also pulling out her tablet. “I’ll be there. Now, how are we starting this out?”

\-----------------------------

Zoey is _so glad_ that half-baked idea of hers to read her first thoughts about the programmers seemed to work. The rest of the day is almost too easy; They’re just working on fine-tuning the scavenger hunt, now, and she’s doing her best to trust her team and not hover. She heads over to her parents’ house after work, where it seems that the guessing game is over. Her plan _was_ to just be with her dad, but that gets interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Max?”

He seems surprised to see her, too. “Oh, hey. I, uh, just wanted to bring Mitch that butterscotch pudding from Hand Picked.”

She leans against the door. “That stuff you hated? When did you save it?”

“You went to the bathroom. I remembered that he could only have soft foods, and I know he loves butterscotch, so…” Max seems hesitant.

“So…” Zoey opens the door wider. “Go give him it. You know he loves you.”

As Max heads in and starts a conversation with Mitch, she retreats to the kitchen and watches her best friend interact with her dad with a smile. She doesn’t even notice her mother joining her until she speaks. “He fits in very well with this family.”

Zoey nods. “He really loves Dad. He told me once that Dad’s been a better father in five years than his own father ever was.” The statement hangs in the air, until a muffled laugh from Max in the other room breaks it. “I'm scared.”

“Of what?” She can feel her mom’s gaze, but can’t meet her eyes.

“He’s my best friend, Mom. Pretty much my _only_ friend. I almost messed that up this week. What if I do?” She finally meets her mom’s eyes, but can’t figure out what she’s feeling before Zoey’s pulled into a hug.

They stay there for a minute. “I think,” she breaks the silence, “that it will take more than one mess-up for Max to leave.”

She didn’t know she needed to hear that, but her mom always knows the right thing to say.

\-----------------------------

Okay, is Joan _actually_ that flexible, or did her foot reaching Zoey’s _head_ in the heartsong come from her powers? She ends up asking Mo about it during her ramble at the club, but doesn’t get an answer before being shooed away.

She climbs up to where Simon and Max are chatting. The two had decided to combine their plans with Mo’s audition for the launch party, mostly because they’re all exhausted preparing for said party. She had gone up to Mo first under the guise of giving them a little “bro time” (thanks, Tobin), but she also needed to freak out about Joan’s heartsong without fear of being judged. She rejoins them, finally, and accepts the drink Max had gotten for her. 

“How’s it going up here in the Testoster-zone?” She winces at the pun, but neither Simon nor Max seem to care. “What sportsball are we talking about?”

“Actually,” Max corrects, “We were talking about Mo’s music taste.”

Simon quickly agrees. “Thanks for the suggestion, Zoey. I think he’s our guy.” His brow furrows. “He… _is_ a guy, right?”

“Mo doesn’t believe in labels, but his pronouns are he/him,” Zoey clarifies.

“Right, thanks. Yeah, he’s got the job, for sure, just need the do the paperwork to make it official.”

“Alright!” Max exclaims loudly (and right next to her), “Let’s celebrate now!”

“Celebrate what?”

“Everything! Simon’s engagement, your promotion, Mo’s job--”

“And what about you?” Zoey interrupts, a smile sneaking onto her face. 

Max blinks. “Tonight’s about my friends, not me.”

“You fucking Hufflepuff.”

“Says the Ravenclaw with the emotional awareness of a q-tip.”

“I’m _actively_ working on that, thank you very much.”

“That’s true,” Simon finally injects himself into their banter. “Zoey here always seems to know exactly when I’m hurting.”

Zoey would retort about dad problems trauma-bonding them, but she remembers that she promised not to talk about that. Luckily, Max seems to get curious. “And how’d that happen, if I might ask?”

Simon’s expression clouds for a second, but it clears too quickly for Zoey to start parsing (or a heartsong to start playing). “Zoey and I, uh, bonded over dad problems when we first met.”

“Well, I _also_ have dad problems,” Max declares, “But I’ve either repressed them really well or have gotten over them mostly.”

That pulls a laugh out of Zoey, which lets Simon know it’s okay to laugh, and Max joins in because laughter is infectious. After their giggles mostly die out, Zoey raises her glass. “To all of our big moments recently. To our dad problems. To friends, both new and old.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Simon says, raising his glass with a smile.

Max follows suit. “Here, here!”

Zoey looks over at Mo, who just so happens to look up and meet her gaze. She shoots him a smile, too, and hopes her message is conveyed. _To **all** of my friends._

\-----------------------------

“Okay,” Mo starts, “Max is _very_ much in love with you, and I could bet money on Simon feeling something, too.”

“Mo, Simon’s _engaged_ ,” Zoey refutes, settling onto his couch. She knows it’s no use arguing about Max, but she’s decided that unless he says something outside of a heartsong, she’s ignoring his feelings for her. “We just trauma-bonded over our dads.”

“And have you met his fiancée yet?” He bustles around his apartment, doing this and that while talking. 

Okay, point. “No, but we’re making plans to all meet up and do an adult dinner, where Max and I _will_ meet her. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” She changes the subject. “What do I do about my boss?”

“Help her.”

“But how? I can’t just _waltz in_ to her office and go ‘hey, Joan! How’s the marriage going?’” She can _feel_ her cheeks heating up at the idea of doing that. “Maybe it’s not her marriage? Maybe it’s something at work?”

“Zo--”

“It must be work-related,” She steamrolls over him, “So I need to see if it’s my team that’s being unsatisfactory. If it’s anything else, it’s not my problem, right? Right?” Zoey turns to Mo, eyes big, and she’s not sure who she’s trying to convince more, him or herself.

Mo seems (rightly) a little weirded out by her expression, but replies “Right…” before going back to whatever he was doing.

“Right.”

Fuck.

\-----------------------------

Zoey starts her day early by heading over to her parents’ house and setting up her little side project. She can’t help but see the hurt in her mom’s eyes, but has to leave for work before she can ask after it.

She manages to be on time to her and Max’s coffee run, and gets to say a quick “hi” to Autumn between ordering drinks for her team. Today they’re finishing the scavenger hunt and sending it out, so she’s starting the day off with an extra boost for everyone.

After she checks in on everyone’s progress (once mid-morning, once at the end of the day: not too much, not too little), she finds the time to wander up to the cereal bar while Joan is there yelling about Crunch Berries. 

“Top of the morning to ya, Joan,” Zoey starts.

Immediately Joan orders, “Never say that again.”

With a nod, Zoey looks down, gathering her thoughts. “Just wanted to… check in on you. Everything good? Is… my team working to your… satisfaction?”

Zoey watches as Joan honest to god puts coffee into her cereal bowl and is so confused that she almost misses Joan’s response. “No, your team is doing exemplary, Zoey.” Zoey looks up at the use of her name to see hesitance on her face. “But my marriage is--”

“Great!” Zoey interrupts, “I’m glad my team’s doing well. That’s all I wanted, thanks!” With that, She turns around and practically sprints back to her desk, leaving Joan with her cereal-coffee abomination and a confused look on her face.

\-----------------------------

The song won’t _fucking_ leave her alone, and she’s going _crazy_. She meets Mo for lunch, haunted by _Satisfaction_ all the way to the park. She can barely hold a conversation with him before caving, deciding to talk to her _boss_ about her _marriage_.

After yelling into the sky “I’ll do it!” and sitting back down in defeat, she looks over to Mo who has a… calculating? Look on his face. “What?”

“Is it just the fact that she’s your boss that’s making you reluctant?”

Zoey forces a laugh. “Great, my lunch hour is going to be filled with trying to figure out emotions. Just what my day needs.”

“Zoey,” Mo uses her full name (never a good sign), “You need to learn how to at least recognize your _own_ emotions to survive in this world.”

“In what world, Mo? The world where I’m uncomfortable in my own skin on a _good_ day? The world where, until recently, only one person outside of my family has ever been consistently by my side? The world where it feels like _every other person_ connects with people on a level that, try as I _fucking_ might, can’t reach?” She didn’t know she was that angry. “That’s a great world.”

“It just means that you need to stop _trying_ to be the same as everyone else, and _start_ being yourself.” Mo puts down his food and fully turns to her. “So, Zoey Clarke: who are you?”

Zoey has to stop and think. “I… I’m the manager of programming on SPRQpoint’s fourth floor. I’m the daughter of Maggie and Mitch Clarke. I’m the sister of David Clarke.”

“Okay, that’s all well and good,” Mo interrupts, “But who are _you_?”

“I’m a millennial?” She tries.

Mo sighs. “Baby steps.”

\-----------------------------

Zoey spends the evening with her dad after day drinking with Joan. After a phone call from David that does _not_ ease her mind, she ends up talking to (at) her dad.

“And I just… what’s wrong with me? Mo says I need to learn how to recognize my own emotions before I can tackle the world’s, but my song powers say I need to help with other people’s problems, even though I can’t even--” She stops, swallowing back tears (stupid day drinking). “I can’t even fall in love with anyone. Believe me, I’ve tried.” She looks up from her hands, wrapping herself up into a ball next to her dad, and finally voices her fears. “Am I broken?”

Her dad grunts, but remains still for one moment, two… until he starts moving his mouse. “NOT BROKEN.”

Two words. 

Two words from the most important person in her life, and they break her last shred of composure. If anyone would have walked in they would have seen Zoey, still half-drunk, sobbing next to the man she’ll likely lose soon. All over two words.

_Not broken._

\-----------------------------

The next few days are a blur for Zoey; between dealing with Joan and Charlie’s devolving relationship, trying to get through David’s thick skull that their mom needs help, and finalizing everything for the party, she’s exhausted by the time the launch party _actually_ comes around. She leads Mo over to where he’ll be setting up, and Simon helps them carry over his music, which Zoey appreciates.

“And hey, Zoey?” She pulls away from Mo at Simon’s question, following him over to a semi-secluded corner. “You okay?”

“I’m--” She stops before she can say _fine_ , re-evaluates her emotions (he’s patient, thankfully), and actually responds, “I could be better. I, uh… told my dad something big about myself earlier this week.”

Simon nods. “Did he take it well?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zoey reassures him, “It just took a lot out of me. Not to mention my mom needs help but my brother’s being stubborn, and this whole party, and Joan’s been weird...er than usual…”

“It’s a lot,” Simon finishes with a smile. “Well, hey, the week’s almost over. We just need to make it through Charlie’s speech, and we can relax.”

Zoey smiles up at him, gratitude filling her. “Thanks, Simon.” She places a hand on his forearm. “I think I needed to hear that.”

He smiles down at her, too, but he clears his throat. “If the party gets to be too much, for any reason, I’m offering you my office to escape into. I’ll leave the side door unlocked.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Zoey!” Their moment is broken by Joan, voice projecting frighteningly well across the floor. With one last glance at him, she heads over to her boss. 

\-----------------------------

The launch party is a success, even without Charlie. Zoey dances with Simon for a little bit, and he follows her off the dance floor to look for Max. The three of them end up hanging out near Mo for most of the party, and all three of them do their best to try and impart some musical knowledge onto Zoey.

The party ends, but they all end up following Mo and Zoey home, where they continue talking and getting to know each other in Mo’s apartment.

“I’d offer mine, but Mo says it’s a sorry excuse for adulting,” Zoey offers.

“I have to agree with him,” Max says. “The only real food in her pantries are a box of _stale_ pop tarts, which I see as a miracle.”

Simon laughs. “How do you get pop tarts to go stale?”

“Ask Red over here,” Mo replies.

Conversation seems to flow easily between the four of them, and by the time they all finally say goodnight to each other (Simon first; he made the statement of “needing to assure my fiancée that I’m alive”) Zoey can easily call them all friends.

The next day is a family day, but Zoey drags Max over to her parents’ house with her. While Max is entertaining her dad, Zoey and David corner their mother to get her to go along with their plan.

“I already requested to work from home for a week,” David tries. “That’ll give us the time to sit down, all three of us, and figure out the schedule. Mostly for Zoey.”

Zoey holds back her urge to stick her tongue out at him. This is a serious conversation, dammit! 

Their mother sighs. “I don’t know… I’ve been in help mode for so long. What would I do?”

“Well,” Zoey starts, “You could pick up your shears again.”

“I bet Cindy down at the flower shop’s been missing you,” David supplies.

“There’s always a billion new shops and restaurants to visit.”

“Or you could just go and take a walk,” David finishes.

“Did you two rehearse this?” Their mom asks.

Zoey says, “No.”

David, at the same time, says, “Yes.”

The three of them laugh. From the corner of Zoey’s eye, she catches movement, and notices Max staring at her through the glass doors. She smiles and waves at him, but turns back to her mother quickly. “Seriously, Mom, we’re all here together. Let us _help_.”

Finally, she nods. “Okay. I love you guys.” She pulls her children into a group hug, and Zoey and David both let it happen.

Eventually, David breaks the hug first. “I love you guys, but I have to head back to the office. I need to finalize something before I can work from here next week, and go make dinner for Emily.”

“Sure, see your wife for the first time all night,” Zoey jokes. “Leave us here alone to starve without your cooking skills.”

“Okay, I will,” David replies in the same joking tone. “What about you? Got any hot dates planned, Z?”

“No dates,” She replies, “But I should probably rescue Max from Dad before he can talk Max’s ear off.”

Her mom genuinely laughs at that, and it’s nice. It’s a nice family moment that almost makes everything better. The ever-present doom that’s suffocated the life from this house since the diagnosis lifts, if for a moment, and it’s like Zoey can finally _breathe_.

Her dad’s still here, and he loves her as she is. Her family is _together_. Her friends all get along with each other. She has more than one friend. Everything’s all right at work.

There’s a million ways this could be better: her dad could be laughing with her mom, she could never have gotten these powers, she could have a word for what she is. 

There’s a million ways this could be worse: her dad could already be gone, she could never have gotten these powers, everyone could hate her for what she is.

But… Zoey’s a coder. She works in definites, in cause and effect, in lines of code. She can’t change the outcome of her life, because she has no way of accounting for every variable. If she could, she’d lose the… what does Max call it? The spice of life. The parts worth living for. The times when life slips away from the ordinary.

Like this moment, when her mom is fully laughing for the first time in months.

It’s _extraordinary_.


	2. Episodes 4-6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t tell an artist about something being subjective if you’re a STEM kid.”
> 
> Zoey scoffs. “What does that have to do with anything?”
> 
> “Zo-zo, I love you, but you don’t have a subjective bone in your body. But me? I’m a Leo, baby, _everything_ is subjective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to chapter 2! i almost stalled out on this, but i got a burst of inspiration and basically wrote 1x06 in three days.

“Do I really look like that?” Zoey moves her head around, the me-moji Simon made of her following her movements. 

Mo, doing handyman work around the building, scoffs. “You’re texting an engaged man before nine am, Little Zo Peep.”

“Yes, a _happily engaged_ man,” Zoey retorts. She’s following Mo around before she needs to head to work, since he was nice enough to fix her stove before she has to leave. “And since he’s so happily engaged to an objectively _gorgeous_ woman, I don’t see a problem.”

“Ah, yes, the allusive Jessica,” Mo sets down the box he’s carrying to turn around and face her. “How is it that every time I ask you about how hot someone is you can’t answer, but the _only_ way you can describe Simon’s fiancée is ‘objectively gorgeous?’”

“Simple: hotness is subjective and requires mental capabilities I don’t have.” 

“Don’t tell an artist about something being subjective if you’re a STEM kid.”

Zoey scoffs. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Zo-zo, I love you, but you don’t have a subjective bone in your body. But me? I’m a Leo, baby, _everything_ is subjective.”

“And I’m… whatever a Capricorn is.” Her phone buzzes with another text from Simon, and she looks down at it while continuing. “Tell me again why texting a friend before nine is weird?”

Mo sighs. “It’s not bad, as long as _both_ of you are sure it’s one hundred percent platonic. You might be unintentionally leading him on. It wouldn’t be your fault,” He adds before she can, “But it can be seen like that. Just be careful.”

Zoey pauses for a moment, but is fully aware that she does _not_ have the time to actually dissect every interaction she’s ever had with Simon. “I’ll keep your warning in mind. Thanks, Mo.”

“Anytime. I’m a master at putting things out there in the open for all to see.”

And then, he starts singing.

\-----------------------------

“Hey, Max. Nice outfit,” Zoey greets her friend, nodding down at the fact that he chose to cuff his jeans today.

Max looks up as she settles into her desk. “Thanks, I’ve got a date tonight. You know Pedro, from the Golden Gate Grind?”

“Doesn’t he usually partner shift with Autumn?”

“Yeah, him. He asked me out, and I saw no reason to say no.”

Zoey smiles at him, quietly relieved (Maybe he’ll stop singing love songs to her for a little while). “Have fun. Try to avoid getting soaked, it’s supposed to rain later.”

Max gives a pointed glance to her yellow trenchcoat. “I gathered.”

“Zoey,” She turns to see Simon heading over, “Do you have a minute?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” She stands up and follows him into his office. “Is there a problem?”

“Not a work-related problem,” Simon assures. “Our florist just let us down, and I need to find a new one before Jessica bites this guy’s head off.”

They both shiver at the image. Zoey hasn’t met Jessica enough times to agree, but she’ll trust Simon’s opinion of her. “Let me give you my mom’s number,” She suggests. “She and Dad have a landscaping company, she might have suggestions for you guys.”

Simon perks up. “Really? You’re a lifesaver.”

Faking a bashful tone, she makes a dismissive motion with her hand. “Oh, please.”

“I mean it. I’ve never seen Jessica that angry before, you might have just prevented a murder.”

“Well in that case,” Zoey replies, “I’m glad to be of service. I’ll text you her information soon, I gotta go back and check on my team.”

“Fine, I’ll go let you do your _job_ ,” Simon teases. “Thanks again.”

“What are friends for?”

\-----------------------------

Mo (rightfully) yelled at her, and Max is out on a date, so Zoey makes her way over to her parents’ house searching for advice. She greets her dad and checks in on him and David, but can’t find her mom until she follows the sound of conversation out to the backyard.

“Simon?” She’s surprised to see him and Jessica, to say the least, but they both seem happy to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“Zoey, hi!” Jessica greets. “Thank you so much for getting us into contact with your mother. Maggie here was going to give us some contacts, but as we started talking about what we wanted at our party one thing led to another, and now we’re just hiring her.”

Her mom wanders over to Zoey’s side. “Jessica and Simon are so nice, Zoey. How could I resist?”

“I’m not mad, Mom,” Zoey assures. “I was just surprised to see my friend at my childhood home without inviting him over myself.”

“Oh, Simon, look at this wall! Wouldn’t something like this be wonderful?” Jessica’s voice interrupts their conversation, and Zoey watches as she and Simon have a small moment to themselves. She’s happy for them, really, but she looks away after a moment to give them some privacy (and herself a little comfort; she’s… not a fan of PDA).

“Alright, I think that’s enough PDA from the engaged couple,” Simon voices her thoughts, and she looks back at them.

“You know, I’ve seen my brother sneak some kisses behind the hydrangeas,” Zoey tries to joke, but stops as it seems to fall flat.

Simon clears his throat after a moment of silence. “Well, we’ve taken enough of your time for the night.”

“I’ll send you an estimate tomorrow.”

As her mom shows them out, Zoey finds herself wandering over to her mom’s collection of religious texts (the reason she came over in the first place). It’s a nice conversation to have with her mother, but she keeps trying to lead their talk into… _different_ areas.

“You seemed surprised to see Simon here.”

“Well, yeah,” Zoey piles up another book from her mother’s shelf, “It was kinda like seeing a teacher outside of school when you’re in third grade. We’re friends, but I didn’t expect to see him with my _mother_ at her _house_.”

“Okay,” Her mom laughs, “I can see why.” The two fall silent for a moment. “And it’s only friendship between you two?”

Zoey looks up at the ceiling, something she’s sure is named exasperation bubbling up her throat. “ _Mom_.”

Her mom just hums, but seems to drop the subject (but she _knows_ her mom, and it only _seems_ dropped).

\-----------------------------

“Max, you go to Temple, right?” Zoey has about a million different religion books piled on her desk, but Joan is too busy… wallowing? To care that she’s not really doing any work (but since they finished the scavenger hunt it’s been a little slow, just regular upkeep she breezed through by lunch. To avoid hovering over her team, she’s busied herself with the books she’s borrowed from her mom). “Is it out of faith, or moral obligation, or…”

“It’s because I got multiple boy- and girlfriends from various bar and bat mitzvahs,” Max jokes on his way past her desk. “Why?”

Zoey leans her chin on her hand. “I’m taking a look at my faith,” She starts, but trails off when Joan wanders ( _wanders_ ) past her. She ends up following Joan up to the bread bar -- okay, the veggies and meats in front of the bread bar -- and sitting down next to her. _Wrecking Ball_ echoes around her head. “How’s the no-carbs going?”

“As well as it can with a bread bar. They should make carb-less croissants, I’d murder someone for a croissant.” Joan tilts her head. “Probably Glenn. He’s got an eminently punchable face.”

“Okay,” Zoey starts, “Let’s try to avoid violence on company time, please?” She pushes a vegetable she doesn’t recognize (why is it _white_ ) towards Joan’s hands, which haven’t stopped moving since Zoey walked up. “Is everything okay? Is Charlie--”

“I haven’t seen him since the launch party,” Joan cuts her off, grabbing the vegetable and taking a bite. After angrily chewing for a beat (Zoey didn’t know you _could_ chew angrily, but Joan always finds a way to surprise her), she sighs. “I spent the better part of my life dealing with his bullshit. Am I a bad person for missing him?”

Zoey hesitates before responding. “I… am not the best person to ask about _any_ relationship, short-term or long,” She starts, “But you grew habits. Habits take time to break. It’s okay to feel… crappy, after breaking free.”

Joan huffs out something that could have been laughter. “You’re allowed to swear, Zoey, you only _dress_ like a third grader on picture day.” She stands up and starts to walk away, but pauses. “Thank you.” And with that, she’s off to her office. Zoey watches her walk off with a smile, before making her way back to her own desk. She still has books to read, and--

“Oh my god I’m a _terrible_ best friend, I haven’t cornered you about your date yet!” Max looks up from his screen at her exclamation. “Spill, I know you’re done.”

With a smile, Max scoots his chair over to her desk and leans an arm against her pile of books. “You want to talk my date? Alright, let’s talk my date.”

\-----------------------------

Zoey might have gone overboard with the titles for Pastor Steve, but better safe than sorry, right? With everything she’s quickly learning she doesn’t know about religion, her talk with him both helped and confused her further. With that conversation playing through her head plus her progress (or lack of) on the Bonnie front, Zoey’s ready to wallow all night in her apartment.

A knock at her door disrupts those plans, and she opens the door to find her mother holding wine.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what prompted this?” She asks while letting her in.

Her mom beelines for her island, and Zoey grabs cup-shaped objects to drink from as she answers. “Jessica brought this over as a thanks, and I thought I’d use my ‘me-time’ to share it with my daughter, who introduced us.” 

“Well,” Zoey says as she sets down a… mason jar and novelty mug, “I won’t turn down wine with my mom, _especially_ if it means she’ll take care of herself.”

The two stay in companionable silence until the wine is poured and they both get to taste it, but it gets broken by Zoey’s phone. She pulls it out and a smile fills her face when she sees Simon’s name on a text notification; looks like he’s finally given a second version of her me-moji for scrutiny.

“Who’s got you smiling?” Her mom asks, but Zoey can’t recognize the tone.

She looks up from her phone to find a knowing look aimed at her. “Just Simon this time. But earlier Max sent me the cutest photo from his second date with this barista from the Golden Gate Grind--” Zoey stops when her mom looks down into her mason jar. “What?”

“Did I ever tell you about my fling with my professor?”

“Your _what_?”

Her mom laughs. “This was before I met your father. He was my Russian Lit professor, with the sweetest wife…”

Zoey (painfully) slowly starts connecting dots. “Mom, I don’t… Simon and I trauma-bonded over our dads.”

“My professor and I bonded over our love of Tolstoy,” Her mom replies with a shrug. “But our fling only lasted a summer. He broke it off, and I was _heartbroken_. But,” She continues, “That next semester I met your father, and the rest is history.”

“And you’re telling me this because…” Zoey trails off, but her mom seems to understand her unspoken questions.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt like I did.”

“Mom, that’s not an issue.” The words slip out before she can stop them (jeez, her loose lips usually don’t start until after more wine; this stuff is _good_ ), and Zoey’s left with her mother’s curious expression and a base instinct that she needs to explain. “That’s-- I mean-- That’s not…” She stops and sighs in frustration with herself, slouching.

Her mom reaches over and rubs circles into her back. “Take your time, sweetie.”

Zoey closes her eyes. She’s barely had half a glass of wine, so it’s not enough to impair her in any way. She has literally no plans for tonight, and neither does her mom. She seems open and receptive to whatever she’s about to say, and has never previously indicated anything that would scare her away from this.

… Dammit, she’s out of excuses.

When she trusts herself to speak, Zoey takes a deep breath and sits back up, shifting to face her mom. “You know how I’ve never really been good at dating, or romance, or… _feelings_?”

Her mom nods, but chooses to remain silent. Zoey silently thanks her for that.

“Well… part of it is that grey area stuff you talked about that STEM kids -- that _I_ \-- have a hard time figuring out, but that’s not all of it.” She looks down at her hands. “While I was dating Autumn, I figured something out about myself. And I haven’t told anyone about it yet, because I wanted a word for myself before I let everyone know, but… I don’t feel attraction.” Her breath hitches, but she pushes through. “Not romantically, not… _the other way_. I’m just… not wired for it.”

She can’t look up. If she looks up, she’s scared of what she’ll see.

“If… if you want to leave, I’ll understa--”

“Zoey.” 

She stops talking, stops fidgeting, stops _breathing_. 

“Zoey, can you look at me?” 

Hesitantly, she complies. The movement causes her eyes to sting from unshed tears (tears that slightly blur the face in front of her, such that she can’t see her mom’s expression).

Her fear must show on her face because before she can do anything more, her mother whispers, “Oh, _Zoey_ ,” And pulls her into a hug. 

Zoey reciprocates immediately, face buried into her mom’s shoulder as the tears escape. She feels her mom stroke her hair, radiating calm and composure.

“Zoey, you are so very strong,” her mom starts. “It takes a lot of courage to live as yourself, and I am _proud_ to call you my daughter.”

She thought that after coming out to her dad she’d have a better reaction to acceptance, but this is her _mother_ , so Zoey just tightens her grip and stops fighting the tears.

\-----------------------------

After the tears stop falling, they move to Zoey’s couch and keep talking. Zoey confesses that Mo ripped this out of her shortly after they became friends. Her mom asks her questions that, though are sometimes rude, come from a place of love and a wish to understand (in her own words, “I’ve never had much exposure to this kind of thing, but I will learn for your sake”). By the time the wine is empty and her mom leaves with another long hug, Zoey is ready for bed, but sits for a moment to assess her emotions.

It’s something Mo suggested she do, after their talk on the bench, and even though Mo is currently avoiding her she’s still doing it because it _does_ help. So here Zoey sits, mentally exhausted, trying to define intangible parts of herself.

She’s… happy. Her mom took the news well, and she knows her dad doesn’t hate her, too.

She’s also sad? Mo’s problems still hang over her, even if they were pushed to the side for a moment tonight, and not being able to solve them right away is… oh, not sad, _frustrated_ , it’s frustrating.

She also feels determined, that one she’s sure about. Determined to help Bonnie, determined to help Mo, determined to… there’s a third thing, but she can’t quite decipher it yet.

Anything else Zoey can dissect about her emotions fades away as a yawn overtakes her body. Three feelings is more than before, especially since her talk with her mom was more draining than she thought it would be.

But it’s nice to have people know.

\-----------------------------

Zoey only planned to talk to (at?) Bonnie, but she’s not mad about running into Mo. She hasn’t been friends with him for very long, but she’s surprised to find how much she missed hanging out with him.

She even figures out how to quote the Bible while talking to him, which at least puts a smile on his face.

“Oh, I wanted to tell you this earlier today,” Zoey starts, “But I didn’t know if you wanted to hear about it…”

“I haven’t kicked you out yet, have I? Spill,” Mo settles back in his seat. “I’m surprised to say that I missed your craziness.”

Zoey smiles. “I have to agree. But yeah, Max walked in today singing _opera_ and dancing with coffee and managed not to spill a _drop_.”

“No, he did? What prompted it?”

“I took a stab in the dark and guessed that his date went well, and then--”

“Wait,” Mo interrupts, “I got into a fight with you for _two days_ and missed Max getting a _date_?”

“Two dates, actually.” Zoey shrugs, a smile on her face. 

Mo just stares at her with his mouth open, somehow speechless, which makes Zoey absolutely _lose_ it. Her laughter echoes around the apartment, eventually joined by Mo’s melodic tune, and it feels so _nice_.

Eventually the laughter dies down, and the atmosphere between them feels a lot lighter.

“Okay,” Mo gets out, “You are giving me _every_ detail.”

“Fine, but only because I missed you."

\-----------------------------

Zoey convinces Max to come to the sex reveal party on Saturday, and as she leaves with the extra sheet cake and Max walks her around the house an unfamiliar car pulls up and someone climbs out of the drivers seat. From the way Max’s expression lights up and from Zoey’s familiarity with the Golden Gate Grind employees, she can figure out who it is.

Max’s exclamation of “Pedro!” and subsequent sprint to hug him confirms it, but Zoey gives herself a mental pat on the back for that little achievement. “Babe, I thought we weren’t meeting up until later?”

“Babe?” Zoey asks, walking up.

The two men turn to her, and she waves as best she can holding a sheet cake. “You called Autumn ‘boobear’ after your _first date_ ,” Max retorts.

She rolls her eyes with a smile. “Fine, I’ll drop it. It’s nice to meet you outside of the Grind, Pedro. Max here doesn’t shut up about you.”

“I’m honored,” Pedro responds. “You’re… Zoey, right?” She nods. “I remember, now, you were Autumn’s last ex.”

“That’s me,” She responds good naturedly. “I’ll get out of your hair, I have a couple things I need to do. Have fun!”

As she walks away, the new couple start talking before she leaves earshot. “I got us a room in Napa for next weekend. How does that sound?”

“Napa? I mean…”

\-----------------------------

Zoey doesn’t know how Joan got her phone number but decides not to question it when, after her heart rate reaches a reasonable bpm again, the text just says “Thank you.” She’s not sure how, but that text gives her the courage to head back to Mo’s church and ask for Pastor Steve.

 _That_ leads her to playing darts with Pastor Steve for a little while. She planned to just relay Mo’s message and leave, but something prompted her to stay, for a little longer.

“You look like you have something on your mind,” Pastor Steve points out. 

Zoey sighs and sits down next to him. “I’m still trying to figure out how people can be emotionally perceptive,” She tries to deflect, but gives that up when she sees his face. “Wow, that’s a _good_ confession face. It makes me want to spill all my secrets.”

Pastor Steve smiles. “The key is a lack of judgement. So, what’s wrong?”

“How did you know you believed in the right thing?” She pauses, frowning. “That was said wrong. I mean… out of all of the spiritualities and faiths out there, how did you choose?”

Pastor Steve is silent for a moment. “I was raised in my belief,” He starts. “To me, nothing else made quite as much sense as mine. Not to say that the others are wrong, but I had a personal connection to this one. To put it plainly, it felt right.”

Zoey nods. “Mo… made me aware of how little I actually know about…” She makes a vague gesture with her hand, almost smacking someone passing by. “This stuff, and I’ve been trying to do some research about it. One question that stuck with me was what I asked, and the other is… Do I need one? I thought I was happy.”

“Faith is a personal journey, Zoey. If yours brings you to God, or more than one, that’s perfectly fine. If yours is more person-centric, that’s fine as well. If you feel fulfilled without journeying down that path at all, well… _I_ certainly can’t stop you,” Pastor Steve explains, a smile evident.

His smile prompts her to smile. The answer he gave doesn’t quite fit the parameters she’s subconsciously built, but it _does_ settle something, somewhere in her.

\-----------------------------

“So,” Zoey starts, “How was Napa?”

Max’s face clouds as they step into the Golden Gate Grind. “You overheard that, huh?”

“Your boyfriend knows how to project his voice,” She replies cheekily, before they reach the counter. “Hey Autumn, our usuals please.”

“Sure thing,” Autumn replies with a smile. “How was Napa, Max?”

“Word travels fast around here,” He says instead of answering, tone… off.

Autumn shrugs. “Pedro and I shared a shift yesterday, he wouldn’t shut up.”

Max, apparently, thinks that his shoes are the most interesting thing on the planet, because he can’t look up from them. Zoey frowns quietly. “Yeah, he sure knows what to say.”

Before Zoey can ask about that, their drinks are ready, and she waits until they’re outside before she brings up anything. “I might be misinterpreting, but what’s wrong?”

He glances at her, surprise easily recognizable. “Genuinely proud of you for that, Zo. But yeah, it’s about Pedro.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” She needs to stop prompting songs by asking questions, because she’s wandering down the street while Max is singing a song that _mocks_ her with its repetition of the phrase _trouble in paradise_. Reality snaps back by the time they reach the SPRQpoint building, but Zoey doesn’t get to say anything until they get into an elevator.

“I'm not sure if we’re looking for the same thing, you know? But he’s great, so I--”

“Hold the elevator!” Someone outside cries, and both Max and Zoey jump into motion at the same time. Simon appears and gets in with a relieved smile. “Thanks. How’d the weekend go, Max?”

Zoey answers before he can. “We were just talking about that. Turns out there’s a little divergence of interests cropping up.”

Simon lets out a low whistle. “Never good. I was with someone before Jessica for a hot second, but we ended up completely ruining my favorite restaurant with our breakup.”

“Oh no, really?” Max’s tone conveys apology.

“It was a while ago now,” Simon shrugs. “No more Thai for me, though.”

Zoey blurts out, “So you took a _Thai_ -me out?”

Both men stare at her for a moment, before bursting into laughter. The elevator opens and they stumble out, still giggling, which gives Zoey a little pep in her step all day.

\-----------------------------

Joan didn’t read any peer reviews that Zoey wrote in that meeting. When she pressed the issue as to who wrote Leif’s, she deflected. Leif moped literally all day, which led to the whole team’s dynamic shifting.

All in all, she’s glad she agreed to meet Mo at this bar, even if it’s Tuesday. Max and Pedro join them just when Zoey finished explaining Max’s most recent heartsong, saving them both a dissection, but Zoey doesn’t get to enjoy her friends’ company before she finds her brother at the same bar, singing.

She retreats back to her friends. If David needed to do work outside of his office (even if she doesn’t believe that), fine. She won’t let his presence ruin her platter of potato skins.

“No, babe, I _told_ you I’m starting a diet!”

Pedro seems to be doing that just fine.

Zoey’s heard tales of the end of a “honeymoon period” in new relationships, where the people involved are seeing things that bother them about each other. From her scarce abilities (and his song from yesterday), she thinks Max has reached the end of that.

Pedro is talking to Mo now, but Max is sitting next to him with an expression Zoey can’t shake. She tugs his sleeve and nods to the side, asking if he wants to wander off for a second and talk.

He does, so the two friends slip away while Pedro is otherwise occupied.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Max sighs, glancing over at their table. “I don’t know, I just… he wants me to meet his parents.”

The ambience of the bar flows between them while Zoey scrunches her face up. After an extended moment of silence (maybe too long), she finally musters up a weak “And?” in response.

“Meeting your partner’s parents is a _big deal_ , Zoey,” Max explains. She’s just glad he didn’t take her lackluster response personally (a perk of being friends for so long). “I think it’s a little soon, you know? But we _did_ go to Napa…” He trails off, carrying the conversation on his own. 

Zoey lets him mutter to himself for a good minute and a half before patting his forearm to get his attention. “Max… I think you just have to talk to him.”

That (thankfully) seems to be the right thing to say, because Max’s shoulders relax. “You’re right. Thanks, Zo.”

“Anytime,” Zoey smiles up at him. “As long as he doesn’t get in the way of movie nights, Pedro’s got my stamp of approval.”

Okay, she is _ninety_ percent sure (eighty-nine point five four, but she’s rounding) that his smile strained again after that sentence, but it was only for a moment, so she let it go.

\-----------------------------

David’s talk (more like yell) with her a few nights later made her feel, in a word, shitty. If her powers are supposed to tell her to help people, why did she mess this up so much?

Zoey is three seconds away from letting the songs haunt her without helping before Mo steps in and gives her advice about failure that echoes through her dreams.

She decides to implement some of that advice with Leif, who was still moping from the anonymous peer reviews. While it didn’t go _exactly_ according to plan (she did _not_ write that review!!), Leif is able to get back to work after their talk.

After her lunch break she checks her email and is surprised to find one from Leif sitting in her inbox. She shoots him a curious look as she opens it, but he’s too engrossed in his code to notice it.

It’s short: just a link and a message. _I finally found the site where I got my helmet sticker. They also look good on laptops._

Zoey follows the link to a well-designed website decorated with photos of the company’s pins and stickers, mostly pride-themed. She spends a few minutes looking at their design options and puts some bi pins and stickers into her cart (for Max) before sending Leif a quick message of thanks on Slack.

That night, with a facemask on and some lo mein, she finds herself scrolling through the same website on her tablet to pass the time. She accepts the incoming FaceTime request without hesitation, surprised to find Max calling her from the middle of a busy bar. “Hey, Max. Aren’t you supposed to be at dinner with Pedro’s parents?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Max replies from his side. “We actually broke up.”

“What?” Zoey sits up straight, full attention on her friend. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Max shrugs, jostling his phone in his hand. “It was amicable, I think? I just… we wanted different things from our relationship, you know?”

Zoey doesn’t realize her phone had been buzzing from text notifications throughout most of their call until a knock at her door pulls her attention from her screen. “Max, I think I need to call you back in a minute, someone’s…” she checks her phone to see who it is, “Wh- _Simon’s_ at my door? I gotta get it.”

“Simon?” Max sounds as confused as her. “Wait, isn’t today his dad’s birthday?”

“You know about his dad?” Another round of knocking occurs, and she calls out towards her door. “I’ll be right there!” 

As she peels off her facemask and uses a towel from her kitchen to wipe off the excess goo, Max replies. “Yeah, he told me while we were hanging out. You should go. Call me when the crisis is over.”

“Will do.” With that, Zoey ends the call and leaves her food on the counter, rushing over to the door. On the other side is Simon, who Zoey can tell is agitated. “Simon?”

He barrels his way into her apartment, voice threatening tears and rambling about emails and tone shifts. Zoey gets him onto her couch with little persuasion and is almost at a loss for words when he whispers out “Is it my fault?”

Mo’s words ring through her head again as she sits down next to him. She places a hand on his shoulder in comfort (she hopes) and rubs it a little as she gathers her words. “It’s not your fault,” She begins. “I hate to say this, but if your dad wasn’t reaching out for help, I don’t think he wanted it. There is _nothing_ you could have done to stop him. All you can do… is keep living for him. Make him proud.”

Simon is silent for a long time. Just as Zoey starts to think she said the wrong thing, he croaks out, “Thank you, Zoey. I really needed to hear that.” The raw honesty in his voice shocks Zoey, and her hand stops moving on his shoulder. “It’s… it still hurts, but… thank you.”

Before anything else can happen, music fades in.

After a song from Simon that Zoey understood _very clearly_ , thank you, she finds herself drawn (extremely against her will -- does her power force _her_ to dance, too?) in between Simon and the door, his face uncomfortably close to hers. She actually recognizes this position from a few of her past relationships, and the dread that had begun to collect during the heartsong washes over her in a wave as she _really_ realizes what this moment means.

Simon is interested in her.

Simon, her _happily engaged friend_ , is interested in _her_.

Oh, fuck.

\-----------------------------

She gets Simon out of her apartment and is immediately struck with the simultaneous urges to tell Mo and Max what happened, so she compromises and grabs her tablet before sprinting across the hallway and knocking in her usual frantic manner on her neighbor’s red door.

“Simon just sang a heartsong to me,” Zoey rushes out before Mo can even mutter a greeting, ducking under his arm and beelining to his couch. “I needed to tell you that because I also need to tell Max what just happened, but you get this context because you know about my powers.”

As she sets up her tablet to call Max, she sees Mo make a detour and appear next to her with two wine glasses, already filled with something red. “You seem really spooked, Little Red. Is it a good thing or a bad thing?”

Zoey takes the proffered glass and lets her leg bounce answer his question as the FaceTime call rings. 

Predictably, Max picks up after the second ring. He’s moved to a quieter place, but she can still hear the sounds of the bar in the background. “Hey, how di- Zoey?”

Zoey forces a smile, but it’s clearly fake. “Hey. Uh, I’m over in Mo’s apartment. I needed to tell both of you guys this but I don’t think I can say it twice.”

“It’s true,” Mo inputs, “I know nothing.” 

From her screen, Max gives her an expectant(?) look. “Well? Is it about Simon showing up at your door?”

“Yeah, actually.” Zoey takes a deep breath and a sip of (really good) wine before continuing. “Our friendship started with trauma-bonding over dad stuff, and he came over for reassurance. I think I said the right thing, because he looked better? I think? At least, more relaxed. And then… Something happened, I don’t really remember, and he ended up practically pinning me to my door. I think he was five seconds away from kissing me before I had to _remind him_ that his engagement party is tomorrow.” Her eyes widen, and if she had the brain power free she would bet that her skin pales at the same time. “Shit, his _engagement party_ is tomorrow!”

“Back up,” Mo says, “Simon got you up against your door?”

“Simon almost kissed you?” Max questions from his side of the call.

 _Simon sang a heartsong?_ Zoey’s mind supplies to finish the rule of threes.

Instead of saying that, she groans and buries her face in her hands. “I didn’t even know I was doing anything but being a friend, and I end up… _leading on_ an engaged man!” She remembers something else from ten minutes ago and groans again. “And I don’t think I even told him I wasn’t interested… I’m a terrible person.”

From the screen Zoey hears _no you’re not_ , but from her side she hears _a little bit, yeah_ , and she’s not sure who to believe.

“Look,” Zoey peeks over her fingers to find Max’s face on the screen as he continues, “To be blunt, you’re pretty emotionally oblivious. You always have been, the whole time I’ve known you. It’s clear that you’ve been working on it recently, but you’re still new to it. You’re as clueless about your own actions as you are to everyone else’s, Zo. You didn’t realize your actions could be construed as anything but friendly. That’s partially your fault, yeah--”

“I knew it.” Instead of rambling on, Zoey gulps down half of her glass after interrupting.

“ _But,_ ” Max continues once her mouth is occupied, “It’s also partially Simon’s fault. He’s engaged. We’ve all met Jessica; she’s a lovely woman. Simon went to _you_ with his dad problems instead of her. That’s on him.”

Mo speaks up, plucking her glass from her hands. “I have to agree with Max, at least a little bit. I tried to warn you about how things might come across, but you didn’t listen. That part’s on you. What’s on _him_ is his emotional reliance about a sensitive topic on someone who isn’t his fiancée or a licensed therapist.”

Zoey listens to her friends, deferring to their greater emotional intelligence. “Okay, so I shouldn’t be totally blaming myself,” She summarizes as she tries (and fails) to grab her wine back from Mo. “But what should I do about the engagement party? Both Simon _and_ Jessica have invited me, and my mom’s doing their floral arrangements. It would just be rude to not go…” Her head falls into her hands, rubbing at her temples to stave off an impending headache.

Her friends are quiet for a moment around her, until Max pipes up again. “That’s up to you, Zo.”

“Yeah,” Mo agrees, “That’s a sticky situation you need to figure out yourself.”

Zoey looks up at that, casting a questioning gaze around the room. “Did you two learn how to use telepathy to coordinate that?”

Her joke seems to break the tension of the conversation and she lets her friends laugh together and fill the room, joining in quietly once she’s sure they’re laughing for the right reasons.

Her problem isn’t solved, but she feels a whole lot better.

\-----------------------------

As it turns out, she doesn’t even need to make up an excuse to avoid the engagement party; Joan invites her out for drinks and she agrees faster than she probably should have. 

She makes her way over to Simon next, knowing that putting off this conversation will wreck her mental health. As she enters his office he looks up with a smile. “Hey, Zoey, what’s shaking?”

“My throw,” She responds weakly before diving right in. “Look, I hate to have to tell you the day of, but I can’t make it to your party. Joan invited me out for drinks, and she’s my _boss_ , you know? It’s not like I can refuse.” She waits until Simon nods in understanding before broaching the next subject. “And about last night… I just want to make it clear, out loud and for the record, that I want to strictly be friends with you. Nothing more, nothing less, just platonic feelings.”

Simon is silent for a moment, face full of obvious guilt. “Yeah, I have to apologize for the end of last night. I don’t know what happened, but I know it was shitty of me to come onto you like that, especially if you feel nothing like that.”

Zoey feels her shoulders drop, tension she wasn’t aware of leaving her body at that confession. “Yeah, no feelings here. Besides, even _if_ I liked you,” She punctuates the if with an eye roll and a brief smile before turning serious, “I refuse to be a homewrecker. That shit’s fucked up, and you and Jessica are super freaking cute together.”

“I’m glad we agree.” Simon’s smile is back, and Zoey matches it. “Still, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Apology accepted.” She shifts, aware that she needs to get back to her team. “I’m sorry I’ll miss the party. Eat some pigs in a blanket for me -- there _will_ be pigs in a blanket, right?”

“Zoey, this is a classy affair,” Simon states with a straight face. “Of course there will be pigs in a blanket.”

She snorts and leaves him to his work. Her luck seems to have run out, however, because who does she find calling her name from reception? The same Jessica who she has been declining calls from all morning (who her mother, in one call, said was trying desperately to reach her).

She spots Zoey pretty much the moment she steps out of Simon’s office and beelines to her, calling out her name in that smooth British accent of hers. “Oh, thank _god_ I’ve caught you. I need help setting up a surprise for the engagement party. Is now a good time?”

Listen: phone calls stress her out, especially if it’s not a family member (or Max) and _especially_ if she doesn’t know why they’re calling. She’s been ignoring Jessica’s calls because of some stupid irrational thought that she knew about what almost happened between Simon and her, but hearing this very different explanation makes Zoey realize exactly how stupidly she’s been handling this whole situation. Swallowing down the panic in her throat, she nods. “Yeah, just give me a minute to check on my team and, you know, do my job. Set up in the conference room,” Zoey points it out to her, “And I’ll be up there soon, okay?”

As Jessica thanks her and heads over to do just that, Zoey gives herself one small moment to freak out. After her thoughts settle enough, she sets her shoulders and heads over to the coders. “Okay, team! End of the week, how are we looking?”

\-----------------------------

That many shots with Joan was a mistake.

Mentioning the engagement party was a mistake.

The vodka? _Huge_ mistake.

But the biggest mistake of the night, in Zoey’s alcohol-ridden opinion, is showing up to Simon and Jessica’s engagement party.

Mo stops her before she can get too far into the crowd, takes one look at her face, and guides her over to her mom. “Maggie, I hate to ruin your night, but this one needs babysitting and I am entirely too focused on the men here to watch her.”

Her mom, bless her, simply nods and guides Zoey over to a secluded table (which she is extremely grateful for, even though she’s running low on pigs in a blanket). Before she can ask Zoey anything, however, the couple of the night find them.

“Zoey!” She’s not sure who sounds more excited that she showed up, Jessica or Simon. She flashes them a smile that’s mostly genuine and only partially drunk, waving with a pig in a blanket in her hand. Jessica moves forward and hugs her suddenly, and Zoey looks over at her mom in confusion.

“I’m so glad you made it,” Jessica continues as she pulls back, hands still on Zoey’s shoulders. “Believe it or not, we’ve grown quite fond of you in the scant time we’ve been friends.”

Zoey smiles again, very uncomfortable and probably not hiding it well. “Well, I’m here! The party is… beautiful.”

“Thank Maggie for the decor,” Simon jumps in. “She knows her way around a flower arrangement.”

Her mom laughs at that. “It just comes with experience,” She deflects. “Now, I need to get some water into Zoey before she joins the dance floor.”

Simon must remember _why_ she originally told him she couldn’t make it to the party and nods, guiding Jessica away with little effort.

Zoey barely gets to breathe before Max appears in a well-tailored suit (all thanks to Mo -- apparently he caught Max trying to head back into the Golden Gate Grind and talk to Pedro, which Mo rightfully called a “straight boy” move). “Hey, Maggie, have you seen Mo? I think I found som- Zo?”

She just waves. 

Luckily, her mom takes control of the situation. “The last I saw him, Mo was moving towards the rose wall. Try that way first?” Zoey notices her mom stepping slightly between her and Max (and subsequently the crowd), and she feels rather grateful.

Max takes the hint without anger and heads off.

Her mom turns around with a water bottle suddenly in her hands. “I carry one in my purse,” She explains before Zoey can ask. “Now, why are you looking like such a mess in such a cute dress?”

“A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours and most of it revolves around Jessica and Simon,” Zoey confesses. “Also, vodka.” At her mom’s insistence she takes the water bottle and drinks about half of it in one go, unaware of how thirsty she was. “I went out for drinks with Joan and that ended up as pre-gaming for this party. I wasn’t supposed to make it, actually…”

Her mom just waits, silent and receptive. 

Zoey takes a deep breath and another sip of water. “Simon came over late last night. He needed help talking through some dad trauma, and he ended up coming to me. We talked… he almost kissed me, Mom. It didn’t happen I made sure of it, but--” Her voice cracks and tears sting her eyes. “But I must have done something. I thought he and I were just platonic. He- he _blindsided_ me.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Her mom pulls her into a hug, which Zoey returns fiercely. “That was a messed up situation he put you in. Do you want to get out of here?” Zoey nods into her shoulder. “Alright. Let me go get our stuff.”

“No, Mom, I’ll get my own stuff,” she replies, pulling back. “Let me finish this water, I’ll meet you at home?”

With a nod and a “take care of yourself” her mom is gone, leaving Zoey alone for the first time all night.

She immediately wants to cry.

She manages to hold the tears back, however; it would be rude to show up at a party after uninviting herself earlier that day only to leave five minutes in. She’s gonna do what she said; she’ll finish her water, which might just take long enough to have the couple give a speech, who knows? But it would be rude to leave _during_ said speech, so she’ll stick around for it, maybe find Mo or Max to stand by during said speech. Afterwards, she’ll make her excuses to Simon and Jessica and head out and visit her dad.

Her half-drunk brain thinks this is a perfect plan, but her empty water bottle thinks otherwise.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?”

Luckily, Simon seems to know her plan (he probably doesn’t, but she’s still half-drunk).

She wanders a little closer to the crowd, but a tug at her elbow stops her path. She looks up to see Mo holding his phone and scowling. “Just where is your mother, child?”

“She went home,” Zoey responds simply, allowing herself to be led to the side of the crowd. “I’m gonna go after this speech.”

Mo spares one more concerned glance before nodding and turning his attention to Simon.

Zoey follows his lead, catching the adoring look on Simon’s face aimed at Jessica in the front of the crowd. She takes a moment to acknowledge that her mom really did a great job on the rose wall before Simon’s speech really starts.

When the music filters in and blocks out Simon’s (no doubt beautiful) speech, Zoey casts a cautious and hopefully subtle glance around the party to try and guess who will start singing.

Jessica’s voice takes her by complete surprise.

Jessica and her friends turning and dancing at _her_ is an even bigger surprise.

Jessica’s lyrics finally registering in her alcohol-riddled brain is the largest surprise, but _that_ surprise is quickly disregarded and replaced with dread that rises from the depth of her gut to fill her entire being.

Zoey’s not quite sure what is about to happen, but it can’t be good.

\-----------------------------

It wasn’t good. 

Jessica accused Simon of seeing Zoey behind her back pretty much immediately after Simon’s speech ended. Even though both Simon and Zoey swore up and down that there was nothing between them, Jessica didn’t want to hear it. She turned on Zoey and scared her so much that she ended up backing into a torch and burning down the rose wall. 

Zoey runs away after that without saying anything. Mentally, she’s a mess; torn between wanting to be there for Simon as a friend and not wanting to make the situation worse, she’s doing her best to follow her pre-heartsong plan and leave.

The phone call is just the icing on top of a shitty night.

Her dad fell and is being rushed to the hospital, and her mom’s going with him, and Zoey needs to _get there_ but there’s _no_ rides available, _how_ can there be no rides available it’s _San Francisco_ \--

Suddenly, Max is there.

Max is there, and he’s helping her put on her coat and leave the party.

Music starts up, but Zoey’s too in her own head to really realize that Max is singing to her again until he stops singing and gets her an electric scooter.

As they ride down suburban sidewalks littered with celebratory sports fans together. Zoey finally finds time to just… be. She stops thinking about the party and the mess that she made of Simon’s life, stops thinking about how Max just sang another love song to her, stops thinking about her dad’s health. The whole ride to her parents’ house, her whole world is just her, Max, and the scooter they pilot.

She needed a friend tonight.

\-----------------------------

“Max…” They’re alone in the entryway, standing across from each other. “You were there for me tonight when no one else was.” His face is still, looking at her with concern and care, and she feels _supported_. “Just…” She pulls him into a hug, her heels letting her rest her head against his shoulder. “I really appreciate you.”

They stay like that for a while. Zoey closes her eyes, taking in the solidity of her best friend, always there for her. Errant thoughts cross her mind; has she ever been there for him like he has? Does she deserve someone as good as him? How lucky is she to have him in her life?

They pull apart eventually. Zoey shoots him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, too concerned for her dad to give him a full one, and he mirrors her expression. She already decided that she was staying the night, so she sees him off and heads upstairs.

Her plan to go straight to bed is halted by the return of music, and something tells her to go to her window and look out. Lo and behold, across the street and under a lamppost is Max, singing the same song from earlier… but in a different tone. A small voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously like Mo offers up the word “reprise” as a descriptor of what this heartsong is, and she almost rolls her eyes at her inner voice.

The song ends quickly, and Zoey watches from her window until Max is out of sight. The crying and the ride over cleared most of her brain, but a little bit of the vodka from earlier worms its way into her internal dialogue.

Max is still in love with her.

She _really_ needs to figure out what she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the au _really_ kicks in now. please leave comments and tell me your thoughts!


	3. Episodes 7-9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey feels her face fall as _something_ clicks in her head. “So this is real life?”
> 
> Max gives her a nod before focusing on the song again, unaware of the mess that is her thoughts.
> 
> This isn’t a heartsong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear i blinked and this chapter was 10k words; its more than 10k now, but where did the words _come_ from

Zoey calls Max the next day and asks about an impromptu movie night. He agrees quickly, probably thinking that she needs comfort after her dad’s fall, but it’s mostly about seeing him again if she’s being completely honest.

So she ends up at her apartment later that night, the credits of a cheesy sci-fi movie rolling across her tv as Max throws the last few pieces of popcorn at her from across the couch every time she disagrees with his opinion about the movie.

“I’m just saying, _Space Jam_ had a more compelling B-plot,” Zoey defends her position and her face as she speaks, trying to avoid another kernel in her eye.

“Blasphemy! Hedonism! Such slander will not be tolerated in my house!” Max rebukes jokingly.

Zoey narrows her eyes, a laugh threatening to bubble up. “This is _my_ apartment, Maxwell.”

“Hey, you can’t full-name me when your full name is _Zoey_ ,” He replies weakly.

Any response she would have had is interrupted by her door opening and closing, Mo making his way into her house without any announcement. “I must be hitting a low point if I’m coming to _you_ for relationship advice but- oh,” He stops, looking at the scene in front of him. “I didn’t know Max was here.”

Zoey shrugs. “Impromptu movie night, but hey, it’s not only me you can refer to with your relationship troubles now! Max is loads better at this than me.”

Mo pauses, shrugs, and then forces himself in between them on the couch, pulling out his phone. “Alright. I’ve been talking to Eddie -- we met at the engagement party--”

“And _I_ wingmanned the _hell_ out of their meeting,” Max interrupts with a proud grin.

“Yes, _Maxwell_ , you did,” Mo concedes with a glare at being interrupted. “Anyways, we’re texting, and I ask if he wants to go dancing and he responds with “K.” Like, just the letter K! How am I supposed to respond to this? He _obviously_ isn’t interested, I should probably just delete his number.”

“Okay,” Zoey plucks his phone out of his hands, turning it off as she does, “We are not going to do that.” With more skill than she usually possesses, she manages to toss Mo’s phone to Max while Mo is actively reaching for it, and Max manages to catch it. “I may not know relationships, but I know that _friendships_ require communication. My guess is that translates to dating, or… courting?”

Max, who Mo does not attempt to steal his phone from, nods his agreement. “Yeah, most relationship fails come from a communication failure. Eddie seems to not be a big texter. Maybe call him instead?”

“What a well-communicated point, Max!” Zoey emphasizes, nodding encouragingly. “I understood your messa--”

“Okay,” Mo interrupts, “I get it. I’ll be more clear in talking to him, and hopefully he’ll get the hint.”

“And with that, I think I should leave,” Max says, standing up. Zoey stands too, following him to the door. “Thanks for having me, Zo.”

Zoey leans against the doorframe as she responds. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I needed a break from last night.”

Max smiles down at her. “I’m always down for movie night and helping a friend.”

Zoey smiles up at him, then leans forward and pats his elbow. “I need more Max in my life, if I’m being honest with myself.” She steps back and gets the door for him. “Thanks again. For everything.”

She feels his gaze linger on her for a minute, but he leaves quickly after. As Zoey closes her door, Mo clears his throat from her kitchen counter and reminds her that he’s still there. 

“I didn’t only come here for boy problems,” He starts. “Pull out your tablet. You have been accidentally leading on this man for long enough, we’re looking up that definition you crave so badly.” Mo makes himself comfortable at her counter, waiting expectantly.

Zoey complies with his demands, not really able to form an argument and trying her hardest to ignore her inner voices yelling in fear. “What if there _is_ no word for what I am, Mo?”

Mo gives her a look that’s unfamiliar on his face, but she places it as compassion after a moment. “Then we’ll make up a word specifically for you.” That doesn’t quite settle her, and it must show, because Mo sighs. “I may not be a fan of labels for myself, personally, but from everything you’ve told me _you_ are. If we have to get to the fourth page of Google to find you a word, Zo-zo, we _will_ , and we will do it _tonight_. Now sit your ass down and open your search engine.”

That… is exactly what she needs to hear, apparently, because a smile breaks out on her face as she sits down. 

\-----------------------------

Her Monday morning didn’t precisely go as expected; between her mom yelling at her and David, apologizing to Simon, and having Leif and Joan be all secretive, she is _so_ ready to go get lunch with Max that she agrees to go to a food court (usually a nightmare for her anxiety, but she thinks the background noise of the mall might be just what she needs).

Zoey’s extraordinarily nervous; she and Mo found a term (technically two) for herself Saturday night, and she decided that Max has waited long enough. She’s going to come out to him during lunch. She knows, logically, that he’ll probably take it well, but might be heartbroken to know that she can’t love him back the way he wants her to, but he’ll support her anyways. She is also intimately aware of the fact that this is the first time she’s come out to anyone under her own power instead of being interrogated or accidentally saying something.

Scratch that nervous -- she’s _terrified_.

She hides it, however, under complaining about Leif’s secrecy and Joan’s deflections for half of lunch. Just as she takes a breath, Zoey looks up and notices that Max looks extremely zoned out. “Max? Are you even listening?”

“What?” He looks at her sharply, startled. “Yeah, I’m-- no, I wasn’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t really important.”

Silence falls between them, and Zoey takes a deep breath.

“Max, I--”

“Hey, Zoey--”

They end up talking over each other and laugh. Whatever tension that grew between the two of them during that silence breaks, and Zoey gestures to let him go first.

So, because the universe _loves_ to mess with her, he starts singing.

Looks like the entire food court is his backup in this song. She doesn’t even hide her reactions; she’s grown comfortable enough in her powers to know that they won’t be able to hear her. The message of the song is clear once it seems like everyone who will join the song does, and Zoey stands up after a chorus. “We were about to have a serious talk, why’d you have to go and sing to me?”

Max, in the middle of a heartsong, while everyone else is still singing, gives her a small confused look. “You said you wanted more Max in your life -- I feel the same way!”

Zoey feels her face fall as _something_ clicks in her head. “So this is real life?”

Max gives her a nod before focusing on the song again, unaware of the mess that is her thoughts.

This isn’t a heartsong.

This is a flash mob.

Max organized a flash mob.

Max is _confessing his feelings_ for her via a flash mob.

The song ends with Max in front of her, and the rest of the flash mob applauds. Vaguely, she’s aware that most of them sit back down and go back to their lives, but a few come up to Max.

Zoey bounces on her heels as she fumbles back to her seat. “So… how long did you plan this?”

“Oh, he contacted us yesterday,” A lady with a (fake?) baby replies. “We’re professional flash mobbers. Want a flier?” 

Zoey takes one absentmindedly.

Max sits down across from her as well, waving the rest of the group off. “After movie night… I had to tell you.”

“Well… message received?” Zoey tries to make a joke, but her heart in beating in her ears and she’s losing feeling in her fingers. “I feel like I should have gone first.”

Max tilts his head, the smile he wore at the end of the song still on his face. “What?”

Zoey closes her eyes and breathes deeply for a moment, trying to re-gather her thoughts. After a second she looks back at Max, who hasn’t moved except to make his expression more attentive.

He’s still there.

He’s _listening_.

That’s enough to fight through her fears.

“It’s probably shitty to tell you this just after you admitted to having feelings for me, but…” Zoey forces herself to meet his eyes, pausing and reading them. If he’s already feeling any hurt, he’s hiding it well. “I’m aroace.”

She watches his eyes shift through a million different emotions in all of two seconds. She sees confusion, recognition, acceptance, hurt…

“I’ve kind of known for a while, but Mo sat me down and helped me find the right words for it after movie night. I didn’t want to tell you until I had a definition, you know?” She finds herself rambling, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “I know you like me, but I am literally incapable of returning your feelings, Max.”

Her half-eaten meal stares mockingly up at her from the table top.

She’s about to start talking again--

“Okay.”

Zoey looks up quickly. “What?”

Max is smiling at her. Genuinely smiling. “I said, okay. You’re aroace. You’re still my best friend first, Zoey.”

Relief floods through her and she can’t stop her smile any more than her tears. She reaches over the table and grabs his hand, not sure how she can convey her gratitude enough. She starts with a few _thank you_ ’s muttered through her tears, and once she composes herself enough to actually talk she does. “What about your feelings?”

“Well…” Max looks away for a moment before coming right back to her. “It’s true that I love you, but I loved you platonically way before I started crushing on you. Give me a few days to sort myself out? I promise, nothing but friendship from me from now on.”

“Really?” She’s surprised how timid the word sounds, but Max just smiles fondly at her.

“Really.” 

\-----------------------------

The afternoon is simultaneously better and worse for Zoey. On the one hand, Max _knows_ , so that’s a weight off her shoulders. On the other hand, Leif is practically inseparable from Joan, so asking about his progress is entirely too complicated. On the _other_ hand, her mom texted and said that she and David decided on a caregiver for her dad, so that’s one less thing to worry about. On the _other_ hand, Tobin started singing a heartsong that she has no idea how to decipher.

That’s a lot of hands.

At some time between checking in on Tobin and getting a “your mom” joke and slamming her head repeatedly into her desk over this one line of code that just _won’t_ work, a thought occurs to her.

What if she tells Max?

If someone at work knew about her powers (specifically, someone who was in multiple musicals in high school and an a capella group in college), she could consult them for deciphering the meaning behind the songs faster than waiting until after work on Mo’s couch. 

Plus, this is Max. She trusts him.

Zoey glances over at his desk, surprised to see him already looking her way. She smiles and gives him a little wave, which seems to knock him back into reality. He blinks violently for a moment before waving back at her and shaking his head, re-focusing on his computer.

That little interaction reminds her that Max is currently forcibly removing a crush (love, Zoey, he said love in real life) and piling another secret on him would probably be unfair. So, she tables that thought for another day and stands up, heading towards the pizza bar for a well-deserved snack.

Literally running into Simon isn’t the _worst_ thing that could have happened, but it’s up there.

“Oh… hey,” Zoey starts weakly.

Simon doesn’t meet her eyes as he matches her greeting, and Zoey sighs. As much as she’d love a heartsong right now, she doesn’t need one to figure out what’s wrong with him.

“Look, I know I apologized before, but I'm seriously sorry.” She grabs a plate, if only to have something to fiddle with, and looks up at him. “I’ll start my apology where the situation was under my control, at least a little: I led you on.”

 _That_ finally gets Simon to look at her, but the panic in his eyes catches her off guard. “What? No, Zoey--”

“Please let me finish, I’ve been thinking about this since the engagement party,” She rushes out. After she’s sure he’s done, she continues. “I did lead you on, Simon, but I can swear up and down that it was unintentional. I’ve never felt anything but friendship for you, and any signals I might have sent were accidents, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I led you on while knowing you were engaged. I’m sorry.”

Simon sighs, rubbing his face. “Zoey… I didn’t even know there was something goin’ on in my head over you until that night. And Jessica’s still mad at me, but we talked yesterday, and I opened up more about my dad with her. It made me realize I was relying on _you_ instead of _her_ for all of my emotional support, which isn’t fair to either of you, so… I’m sorry, too.”

Zoey gives a smile up at him. “How about we accept each other’s apologies and stick to friends?” To emphasize her point, she sticks her hand out.

That earns a laugh from Simon as he takes her hand and shakes. “Sure thing, buddy.” With that sorted out, he turns to the pizza bar. “So, what are you thinking today? Margherita? White? Don’t tell me you like pineapple, I might have to break off our friendship.”

That makes _Zoey_ laugh, and as they continue their banter while choosing their food she can’t help but feel like her life is improving, just a little bit.

\-----------------------------

Later that week Zoey drags Mo and Eddie to a club with her when she realizes she has to find out what’s wrong with Tobin or be haunted by _Don’t Speak_ (Thanks, Mo), and is genuinely surprised to find Max already there. As her friend and his date wander away (to the dance floor… if you can call the makeout nest with thumping music that), she ignores her first reason for showing up at said club to figure out why the heck Max is at a place he’s never been to.

“Max?” He jumps when she speaks, obviously not expecting her. “What are you doing here?”

He blinks, eyes extremely clouded with many feelings before settling on surprise. “I needed a drink to clear my head, heard this place was good. What are _you_ doing here?”

“I…” Zoey sends a helpless look over towards Tobin. “Tobin was off all day and his work was shoddy at best. He wouldn’t tell me what’s bothering him so much that it’s interfering with work _at_ work, so…”

“So you invited yourself to Spelliversary?” Max leans against the bar, drink in one hand as he gives her a skeptical look. “That can’t be your only reason for going to a big club when I subjected you to a food court earlier this week. How close are you to being overstimulated?”

“Like seven minutes,” Zoey confesses, “But Mo asked me to come on his date with Eddie, and then Tobin said his Spelliversary was here, so I thought two birds, one stone?”

Max just hums as he sips his drink before responding. “Well, Mo is nowhere in sight, and you look ready to crawl out of your skin.”

It’s a testament to their friendship that he knows exactly how much her skin is crawling, even though no one is touching her right now. If even one person were to brush up against her, she’d lose it and have to bolt before shutting down in the middle of a club, but she’s currently using every coping mechanism in the book to function normally; she has a mission! The universe forced her to accept it! And hopefully Tobin’s heartsong will self-destruct after this!

She needs to re-watch the Mission Impossible movies.

Zoey re-focuses on Max, holding her hand up in an oath position. “I swear that as soon as I get what I need from Tobin, I’ll leave.”

Max narrows his eyes, but she knows him well enough to recognize that he’s joking now. “Alright, but I’m taking you out of here if you’re ignoring your own safety for this crusade of yours.”

And with that, Zoey is reminded of the fact that Max is currently in love with her (and probably came here to sort his own feelings out), so she just nods and leaves him alone. She manages to avoid touching anyone on her way up to Tobin somehow, probably thanks to the focus of the patrons being the dance floor and not her goal.

He must have noticed her, because Tobin isn’t surprised when she appears in his alcove. “Hey, Zo-bro, why are you here?”

“I’m here for Spelliversary, of course!” Zoey replies, having practiced her excuse. “Gotta support the whole team, right?”

Tobin deflates a little at that, but he covers it with his usual persona before Zoey can really notice. “Oh, man, really? You didn’t have to come…” He lowers his voice, a tone Zoey recognizes as guilt creeping in as he adds, “Especially since I didn’t invite you.”

She chooses to ignore that last bit. “Well, you seemed kinda off ever since Leif said something to you, and I wanted to check in. Not manager to coder, but person to person.”

Tobin laughs, loudly and obviously awkwardly (even to her). He waves off all of the different girls with him and leans in closer to Zoey once they’re gone, all mirth gone. “Leif said he’s focusing on work and thinks I need to focus better too, but he should _know_ by now that I focus better on work after hanging out and relaxing and celebrating, but really ever since Simon and Jessica’s party he’s been blowing me off again and again. I thought that making Spelliversary a bigger deal this year would help, but instead he’s probably still at the _office_ and blowing off _me_ , his boyfriend!”

Zoey was unaware that Leif and Tobin were a thing, but she just blinks and accepts it. “Well, have you talked to _him_ about how his actions are making you feel?”

“I want to,” He confesses, “But every time I try to talk to him he blows me off or says he has work to do.”

Zoey frowns at that, an idea forming in her head but knowing that she needs to leave _really soon_ in order to avoid embarrassing herself. “I’m really sorry, Tobin. I need to go, but I really hope you two can talk soon.” She stands up with one last pat to his shoulder and rushes off, trying her best to beeline towards the exit.

So, _of course_ , Mo and Eddie start singing on the dance floor, and the universe decides that, no, Zoey _can’t_ move closer to the door during this song, but everyone else seems to happily move around her. She’s forced to watch these two idiots dance around each other for _so damn long_ before the music ends and they _finally_ freaking _kiss_ , and that song just lost her her buffer and she needs to _leave_ now but there’s too many people between her and the door and it feels like the whole club is looking at her and pressing in on her and there’s _too many people_ \--

She’s not sure what happens next; one moment she’s on the verge of being overwhelmed, and the next she feels bricks pressing into her back and she’s sitting down, letting the cool breeze of _outside_ wash over her and pull some of the stimulation away. She inhales shakily and only then notices the weight on her shoulder, radiating solidity and warmth. Zoey opens here eyes, not sure of when she closed them, to find Max crouching in front of her and protecting her from anyone passing by.

Her hands, which she realizes were covering her ears, fall, hitting the sidewalk she’s sitting on. Max’s thumb moves, rubbing soft circles into her covered shoulder (he knows that skin-to-skin contact will worsen it) and starts muttering nonsense just loud enough for her to hear. The consistency of his tone and his unwavering sense of _being there_ for her helps significantly, and she feels herself settle back into her skin and her breath evens out faster than usual.

Max must notice, somehow, because he stops his muttering and offers her a smile. “How are you feeling?”

Zoey offers him a smile in return. “Good enough for a hug.” He needs one more than she does, but she’s not lying when she says she’s fine for one. He knows that, too, and pulls her in for one.

It’s short, really just a reassurance that she’s closer to a hundred percent. He helps her up, still careful not to actually touch any bare skin, which Zoey really appreciates. “Did you get what you needed from Tobin?”

Zoey nods, starting to walk down the street. She pulls out her phone as she answers, letting Mo know she left. “He and Leif are having a fight but Leif keeps blowing off Tobin’s attempts to talk to him. Also apparently they’re dating?”

“Of course you didn’t notice that,” Max teases lightheartedly, walking with her. “Does it have anything to do with how Leif’s throwing himself at Joan?”

“Leif’s what?” Zoey looks up at Max. “He’s just working on this new project with her, that’s not… is it?”

Max just shrugs, but blinks as if he remembered something. “Oh! Speaking of… well, not speaking of, but related to this…” He digs around his pocket for a second, making a small triumphant noise as he finds what he’s looking for. “I got you this.”

He stops below a street light and holds a pin out. Zoey recognizes the designs on it; it’s a circle, split in half vertically with the left side holding an asexual flag and the right side holding an aromantic flag. She looks up at him, eyes wide, to find a soft smile aimed at her. 

“I actually ordered this the day you came out to me,” He confesses, “But I told myself I couldn’t give it to you until I was well and truly over my crush. You’re my best friend, Zo, and I love seeing you happy. Thanks for trusting me with this part of you.”

Zoey doesn’t even care if this will set her off again; she launches herself into his arms, giving him as tight of a hug as she can. “ _Thank you._ ”

They stand there under that streetlight, happy to be with each other. Eventually Zoey pulls free, taking her pin as she retreats and slipping it into her pocket. 

Max gives her one last smile before continuing on their journey home, not minding the cool night air. “So, back to the Tobin and Leif situation?”

“Yes,” Zoey jumps in, “I actually had an idea, but I need your help…”

\-----------------------------

“Tobin?” Zoey watches as Max heads over to the coder, putting on a phenomenal acting job. “Can you come with me? I…” Max glances around, seemingly nervous (honestly, if she didn’t know he was acting, she would be fooled) as he leans in and whispers something to him.

Tobin looks up with a smirk, nodding. “Yeah, bro, let’s go.”

Zoey hides her smile as the two coders wander off, completing the first part of her and Max’s plan. As soon as they’re gone, Zoey stands up and does a round and checks in on her team.

She makes her way to Joan’s office next, finding Leif hovering over her shoulder just as she suspected. “Leif?”

Both of the office’s inhabitants look at her, obviously surprised to see her there. Leif recovers first, straightening up. “Yeah?”

“I can’t find Tobin, and I don’t have time to go and hunt him down,” She explains. “It’s not like it’s one of his usual disappearances…” 

“Why can’t you send Glenn?” Leif offers. If Zoey’s right, he seems reluctant to leave Joan. 

Zoey shakes her head. “You know Tobin best; I thought you could figure out where he went and get him back.”

Leif still doesn’t want to leave, it seems, and he and Zoey enter a small staring match.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Joan groans after a solid minute, “Go find Tobin, Leif.”

Leif _finally_ slouches off and Zoey relaxes, trusting Max to finish their plan.

“Zoey,” Joan inquires before she can leave, “What was that?”

Zoey shrugs. “Tobin and Leif are having a fight and refuse to communicate,” She explains, letting a triumphant grin spread across her face as Max strolls back into view swinging a key around his finger. “Max and I are helping them talk it out.”

Risking Joan’s wrath, Zoey leaves quickly while she’s still processing just what the heck that means.

She meets Max up at the pizza bar. “How’d it go?”

“I let Tobin know what we were doing,” He updates her, grabbing a five-cheese slice and wincing. “I got them in and set a timer for an hour. Man, _nothing_ beats real pizza.”

“You’ve yet to show me this quote unquote ‘real pizza,’” Zoey teases, knowing that Max gets picky about New York pizza versus San Francisco pizza. “I still can’t believe there’s a door on this floor with an actual lock and key.”

“I think it’s a fire safety thing for broom closets,” Max replies.

Sure enough, an hour later, Max disappears again and returns slightly ahead of Leif and Tobin, who seem closer than they have been all week. Tobin shoots her a grateful smile and she shakes her head back, re-focusing on her own work and hoping that Tobin takes the hint and follows suit.

\-----------------------------

“I just need to grab my stuff,” Zoey says into her phone. “I’ll come over to meet Howie, grab a late dinner.”

“Take your time,” Her mom replies on the other side of the line.

Zoey smiles. “I will. I love you, see you soon.”

Their phone call ends and Zoey walks out of the bathroom, surprised to find a light still on and other people still in the office. She stayed late to get some manager work out of the way, but the conference room had been unoccupied when she first left.

When she returns, she finds herself watching Leif and Joan discussing this secret project (which they both swear that she’ll be looped in on Monday morning). The heartsong comes out of nowhere, and from this distance Zoey can hear Leif singing, if not his exact dance moves.

She does _not_ like the words to this song.

It ends quickly, thankfully, but Zoey still finds herself frozen by her desk as the rest of the scene plays out. She can’t catch their words now, but she _can_ see their actions, and--

She needs to leave.

She doesn’t bother with stealth; all of her stuff was already packed and turned off, so she just grabs her bag and coat and runs to the stairs, not bothering with the elevator.

With everything she dealt with this week, the _last_ thing she wanted to see was Joan and Leif _kissing_.

\-----------------------------

“Thanks for meeting me,” Zoey starts, fully aware of the icy glare she’s receiving. “I just want to clarify about… that night, and what led up to it.”

Jessica stands across from her, face unreadable.

Zoey plows on. “Simon and I got to know each other over our dad problems, you know this. The night of his dad’s anniversary, he came over in a panic. I calmed him down. I will admit that he almost kissed me, _but_ ,” She emphasizes as she sees Jessica tense up, “I stopped it. We have always been friends and friends only, Jessica.”

Jessica remains silent, probably realizing Zoey has more to say.

She does, as a matter of fact. “The truth is… if I led him on in any way, I didn’t know. I’m not attracted to guys,” She confesses, “So the almost kiss came as a complete surprise. We cleared the air the next day and clarified that we’re only friends, and have _always_ been only friends. I mean it when I say there’s nothing between us. But between you two?” Zoey shakes her head in astonishment. “There’s so much between you two, and I would be a total ass to mess that up. I talked to Simon about his emotional reliance on me. He said he would try to fix it. I’m sorry.”

Zoey watches as Jessica absorbs her words, fiddling with her jean jacket (and new pin) as she waits.

Jessica speaks up for the first time since showing up, voice level and neutral. “Thank you for apologizing, and for explaining. It takes real guts to do that. I need to go.” With that she’s gone, and Zoey slouches as her anxiety leaves with her. 

That could have gone so much worse.

\-----------------------------

Zoey walks into the office with a smile on her face, package tucked underneath her arm and a cup of coffee in each hand. She gave Max his as she greeted her team; they’ve been trying to find a new regular shop but he was craving Golden Gate Grind, so she picked some up on the way to work. Zoey gave the team a rundown of the day; she had been clued into the Chirp yesterday and only got the chance to tell the coders about it today, so they had to start working on the facial recognition patterning and the streaming delays so that they had a feasible prototype for the pitch later this week.

She finishes delegating and claps her hands once, her now customary signal of “I’m done talking, let’s go” and turns around, still by Max’s desk. “One second, I want to show you something.”

Max waits, patient, as she grabs the package she walked in with and opens it up. 

“I bought some stickers for us,” She starts, pulling out a few sheets. “There’s some bi ones for you, and I found a few different flags for me.” She gives him the sheet with all the bisexual flag-colored stickers and points out a few on her own sheet. “This one, as you know, is ace, and this one next to it is aro, but I found a third one that’s specifically _aroace_.” She can’t keep her excitement from her voice as she points to a sticker with five lines (from top to bottom the colors are orange, yellow, white, light blue, and a darker blue). “I didn’t even know there was a third flag!”

“Zoey, that’s incredible!” Max matches her energy the moment she shows it, eyes shining. “”I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable with your identity. That reminds me, who else knows?” He leans back, putting his sheet of stickers off to the side for a moment. “I don’t want to out you if you don’t want people to know.”

She feels her heart squeeze at the care in his voice. “I’ve only directly told my parents and Mo, other than you, but I don’t want to hide it. I don’t need to make a big announcement, but I spent long enough in the closet from _myself_ that I don’t want to sit there any longer.”

“I feel you. So if someone asks, be open, but don’t offer it up right away?”

Zoey smiles and nods. “Thanks, Max, you’re the best. Now get to work, we have a prototype to code and a timeline to organize!” 

\-----------------------------

She stalls on the timeline projections at one point after lunch, and she takes a break to pull out her stickers and her personal laptop (which she also uses for work, but this is the one she bought with her own money and isn’t company property). Zoey figures out how she wants to lay out the stickers and sticks them on after double-checking their positioning, then re-opens her laptop and wanders around to the other side of her desk to look at them, smiling softly as she nods at her handiwork.

She sits back down and notices Max smiling at her, but she also notices Tobin’s gaze on her. There were three groups of coders right now, to put it simply: one group was working on the Chirp’s basic facial recognition (Max is on that), its streaming delays (she put Leif there a little out of spite), and keeping the SPRQwatch functioning and putting out patches and updates (Tobin’s leading that group). 

Zoey checks the time and decides that yeah, she can do a check-in on her team, and stands up. As she makes her rounds, she feels Tobin’s eyes flit to her occasionally, and she leaves him for last, this time.

“Alright, Tobes, how’s the watch going?” She hides a wince at the nickname, but he doesn’t _seem_ to mind, so she lets it slide.

“Watch is great, Zo,” He replies, but moves on quickly. “Love the new stickers, actually. Hey, can we head up to the pizza bar for a minute?”

He’s up and out of his chair before she can process his request, so she’s left standing by his desk like an idiot for a second. “... Okay?”

Zoey catches up to Tobin and is immediately off-put by how nervous he looks. He cuts straight to the chase. “I didn’t know you were aroace. Should I tone down the innuendos?”

She barely hides her surprise (She was unaware he was making innuendos in the first place). “Uh, yeah, please,” She recovers. “You know what those stickers are?”

“Please,” Tobin scoffs, “I’m an asshole, not a bigot.”

She makes an affirmative noise, still about three seconds behind in the conversation.

“And hey, I know you have Max, but if you ever come across someone trying to invalidate you, send them my way. I have lightning fast fingers and the entire LGBTQIAP+ history memorized and bookmarked, ready to quote.”

Zoey laughs at that. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

\-----------------------------

Zoey leaps from her couch the moment the knock rings out from her door, altogether too nervous to assume a human pace as she reaches a dead sprint within ten feet. She forces herself to stop before she could wrench her door open. Closing here eyes and taking a deep breath, she opens the door and flashes a nervous smile at Max, who immediately notices that something’s off.

“Okay, who do I need to kill?” He greets, stepping in at Zoey’s silent invitation as she steps to the side.

She snorts. “No one… yet.” His intuition (and knowledge of her) isn’t wrong; she has something to tell him.

She’s coming clean about her powers.

Zoey talked it out with Mo pretty much all morning; she would tell him in her own apartment, try and field as many of his questions as possible, and then bring him over to Mo to corroborate. 

Step one, getting Max into her apartment, is complete.

“But, there _is_ something on my mind,” She confirms, sitting back down on her couch and he follows suit. “And it’s something I should have told you _forever_ ago, really--”

“Zoey, you already came out to me.” Max stops her rambling before it can really get started by trying to guess the subject. “Or did you find a better label?”

She shakes her head. “No, still aroace.” She closes her eyes, trying to gather her words. “What I wanted to talk about… it sounds so _stupid_ , but it’s true, I just-- _ugh_ ” she grunts in frustration, giving up on starting slowly. “I have a superpower.”

“You have a _what_?” The disbelief in Max’s voice is obvious, even to her, but he quickly backtracks. “Sorry, no, I’m trying that again. A… superpower?”

Zoey opens here eyes, but can’t seem to look at him. “I know it sounds crazy, but ever since my MRI, it’s like… I can hear people’s innermost thoughts and feelings through song. I’m like _The X-Men_ meets _The Voice_.”

“So you, Zoey ‘true crime calms me’ Clarke, are living in a musical world?”

“It’s not _musicals_ ,” Zoey protests softly, “Mostly top 40 hits, I think.”

She feels Max shift next to her. “Zoey? Can you look at me?” She does, realizing that he’s moved across the couch to be closer to her. “I… Yeah, I’m having a hard time believing this is a thing, but I don’t _want_ to disbelieve you.”

That’s a better reaction than she expected, to be honest. Something in his words makes her perk up a little. “Do you want examples? I can give you examples.”

He nods, silent.

“Okay, so when I interfered with Tobin’s love life? Earlier that week he was singing _Don’t Speak_ towards Leif.” She starts recently, but moves backwards quickly. “Jessica sang _Say My Name_ during Simon’s speech, and promptly accused him of cheating on her with me. I actually started talking to Simon because I heard him singing _Mad World_ , and I only feel comfortable telling you about that because he’s also told you about his dad,” She expands, and decides three is enough for now. 

Max remains quiet for a minute, his confused look taking over his face. “And… how do these songs happen? Like, are there rules?”

“Actually,” Zoey confesses, “Mo’s been keeping track of the rules as we understand them better. Before you freak out,” She continues before he can open her mouth, “Mo only knows because after the first song I heard _I_ was freaking out and he was just… the closest person to freak out towards.”

“You took that day off, I remember,” Max says. “So should we head over to Mo?”

Zoey nods, and is suddenly hit with a wave of appreciation. “Thanks, Max.”

Max, already standing, tilts his head. “For what?”

“For not… running to the hills when I told you?”

“Zoey,” Max admonishes lightly, “When have I _ever_ done that with you?”

\-----------------------------

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, _shit_!

Zoey’s morning was already bad enough for a Friday; between almost being late to her dad’s appointment thanks to Tobin messing up the calendar app on the SPRQwatch and quickly wishing that she never showed up in the first place, she now has to pile on the fact that she apparently just did an entire song and dance through the entire first floor of SPRQpoint. 

She’s freaking out so badly that she barely notices Max following her with her jacket and purse which she apparently dropped during her production of _Crazy_ (she wants to laugh at the accuracy of the song but can’t spare a thought towards it at the moment).

“Hey, people sing and dance all the time,” Max tries to rationalize for her, and she is extremely grateful for it (even if she’s barely processing it). “Birthdays, shower tunes, that one time I had three shots of tequila in a row…”

“This has never happened to me before,” She might have talked over him? Zoey’s too in her head to notice, but he (hopefully) doesn’t mind. “What is… what is happening to me?”

She almost jumps when his arm slings over her shoulder, and he instantly retracts it. “Well… you said your powers have people sing when they need to address something? So maybe something is driving you… crazy. So,” He moves into her line of sight, and her eyes focus on his face. “Let’s break it down, line by line. Start with work. What’s the stressor?”

Zoey furrows her brow, trying to remember her life from before the doctor’s appointment. “Uh… the timeline?” Somehow, by mentioning it, she remembers how important it is. “Oh, crap, the _timeline_ , I need to tell Joan that her deadline won’t work, but she won’t listen to me--”

“Zoey?” She looks up sharply and sees Tobin holding a bowl bigger than her and shifting his weight form foot to foot. “Joan and Leif need to see you in her office.” He scoops out three spoonfuls of what Zoey assumes to be some kind of cereal before she processes his request.

“Right, okay… thanks, Tobin.”

As Tobin practically sprints away from her, Zoey remembers another memory she repressed involving Joan and Leif and groans, standing up. “I’ll… see you after the meeting, Max.” She doesn’t wait for a response before reluctantly making her way into Joan’s office, still dazed and trying her best _not_ to remember the kiss-slash-makeout she witnessed.

\-----------------------------

After a second heartsong (this one she bluffed through), Zoey retreats into an isolation pod to drown herself in trying to get the timeline to fit the _six_ months Joan pushed onto her before a _Christmas song_ forced its way out of her mouth with choreography she couldn’t stop.

She forgets that time passes while she laser-focuses on her work, only looking up when her pod is opened from the outside. She looks up to find Max… and Simon?

“Hey,” Simon starts, “Is there a reason why Joan looks about ready to explode from how fast she’s moving around?”

“That would be the fact that my timeline needs to be proposed today and she just shortened my projections by half the time they need,” She explains. “She wants six months, I need twelve, I offered nine and she wouldn’t hear it, so I’m here trying my best to make this manageable before the meeting.”

Max and Simon exchange a look, and Max speaks up next. “So… does this meeting have anything to do with the helicopter that just landed and held Danny Michael Davis?”

“ _What_?” Zoey untangles herself from the (incredibly comfortable) position she’d maneuvered herself into and stands up, trying to peek around her bigger friends. “Danny Michael Davis is going to listen to my proposal?”

“Zoey,” Simon cuts through her spiral with just her name, and she refocuses on her friend. “Can you try to take ten deep breaths for me?”

She does her best, she really does, but Joan calls out for her before she can finish two breaths, and she gives them both tight smiles that she knows don’t quite reach her eyes. “Duty calls. Off to work, both of you.”

With that, she walks into the conference room and promptly has a panic attack in the form of another song.

\-----------------------------

It was only thanks to Max that she was able to finish her proposal with any shred of decency or composure, but he keeps deflecting her gratitude. 

“Seriously, if it had been anyone but Billy Joel, you would have been out of luck.”

“Max,” Zoey finally pulls her face from the carpet where she’s laying on her stomach to level narrowed eyes at him, a modicum of embarrassment and panic disappearing as she focuses on her friend instead of her. “That panic attack-turned-song could have been the end of my SPRQpoint days if you weren’t there.” She feels good enough to stand up and move to a chair-swing, Max following her.

He looks like he’s on the verge of denying her thanks again when she turns around, but she arches one eyebrow (thank you, Mo) and he closes his mouth with a snap. “Okay, fine. Where did you learn to do that?”

“A skilled teacher-slash-mutual-friend of ours,” Zoey replies. 

The two friends sit quietly for a moment, smiling softly, and Zoey breaks the silence.

“Seriously, thank you. No one else would have done that for me.” As she finishes that sentence, music filters into her awareness and she is (surprisingly) thrilled to realize that not only does she know this song, she actively enjoys it, so she lets a smile fall onto her face as she begins singing along.

_If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea_

_I'll sail the world to find you_

_If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see_

_I'll be the light to guide you_

_Find out what we're made of_

_When we are called to help our friends in need_

She doesn’t fight the song, aimed at Max, as it makes her stand up and do some fun little pieces of choreography. As the chorus hits her, she leads him to the game corner, genuinely enjoying this experience.

_You can count on me like 1, 2, 3_

_I'll be there_

_And I know when I need it_

_I can count on you like 4, 3, 2_

_And you'll be there_

_'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah_

She goes through the “oohs” that follow the chorus as she hops up onto the ping pong table, feeling herself skip a verse and head straight to the little weird part before the end (something that sounds like Mo pipes up and calls it a bridge in her head, and she lets it).

_You'll always have my shoulder when you cry_

_I'll never let go_

_Never say goodbye_

_You know…_

Zoey nods her head to the side, mixing it into the choreography, and Max takes the hint, coming forward and sitting next to her. During the final chorus of the song she does some little foot-swinging dancing which Max copies, a big smile on both of their faces as they sit shoulder to shoulder together.

_You can count on me like 1, 2, 3_

_I'll be there_

_And I know when I need it_

_I can count on you like 4, 3, 2_

_And you'll be there_

_'Cause that's what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah_

She leans her head onto Max’s shoulder as she hears the final chords fade out, feeling better than she has… all day. Maybe singing about everything going on in her head is helping her?

“Zoey, you just sang… the _cheesiest_ song I’ve ever heard,” Max breaks their little bubble, and Zoey pulls her head off of his shoulder to look at him. “I mean, Bruno Mars?”

“I actually knew this song, thank you very much,” She retorts lightheartedly, matching his smile.

He rolls his eyes, hopping off of the table to make sure it won’t tip over. “So, that’s your third song today, right? I thought the timeline was your stressor.”

Zoey winces at the memory, hopping down as well. “Fourth, actually. I sang a Christmas song during my meeting with Joan and Leif.”

“Zoey, Max,” Speak of the devil and Leif shall appear, apparently, “Joan wants to see you in her office.” He looks entirely too excited for whatever is about to happen. “There’s probably nothing to worry about, unless you care about getting fired.” He shrugs and walks off.

Zoey’s good mood evaporates and she turns to Max apologetically. “I am so sorry for whatever is about to happen.” 

As she walks off she hears him mutter something, but is too far away to catch the words.

Joan waits until both of them have sat down in fear before starting her yelling.

“Zoey, when I said to reschedule your mental breakdown, I didn’t mean to reschedule it to _during_ the pitch. Speaking of, what exactly was that pitch? I’ve never seen this behavior from either of you before, which is the only reason you two aren’t fired right now. I get that Danny Michael Davis is eccentric, but _warn me_ the next time you decide to go off-script and try to spice things up. All we can do now is hope that your crazy is the crazy he likes.” Apparently done, Joan sits back down. “Leave.”

Zoey has never left an office faster.

She does a rudimentary check-in with her team, trying her best to focus while she’s stuck in this limbo of ignoring and focusing on her problems, when her phone buzzes with an incoming call. 

Her heart skips a beat when she sees that it’s her mother, and her stomach twists as she declines the call. 

Suddenly in desperate need for an escape, Zoey jumps up from her desk and beelines to the meditation room, struggling to keep her breathing even. She closes the door and leans against the wall, eyes closed as she shakily gasps. Remembering Simon’s advice from earlier, she forces herself to breathe deeply, counting with each exhale.

Zoey manages to control her breathing by the tenth count, but as soon as she ran out of counting to focus on all of her problems rushed to the forefront of her mind and fought for her attention, resulting in her knees buckling and all but collapsing onto the ground.

“Did it work?” Zoey’s eyes snap open, suddenly aware that she isn’t alone. She relaxes slightly when it’s only Simon, gazing at her softly from across the room. “The breathing.”

She forces herself to move, pulling her shoes off and settling on a cushion near him. “It did, until I ran out of counting.”

Simon nods, eyes focused on her. “I’ve had those days.”

“I just needed to escape from… that,” She waves vaguely towards the door, indicating work and life in general. “Why are you here?”

“I was meditating, actually.”

“In the meditation room? Really?” She jokes weakly, but he smiles anyways.

A strained silence falls between them, and Zoey, trying to ignore everything else in her life, recalls the fact that even though they agreed to be friends after the engagement party, she and Simon haven’t been the closest lately. She’s been trying to rationalize it away as letting him and Jessica sort their problems out, but… 

Another tune fills her brain, and though she doesn’t feel any choreography trying to overwhelm her, she still tries her best to stop the song. She breathes out a string of curses, earning a look of concern from her meditation partner. Right before the lyrics are about to leave her Zoey blurts out, “I apologize in advance for whatever is about to come out of my mouth.”

“Okay?” Simon’s concerned looks shifts to confusion as Zoey starts singing.

Like she suspected, this song has no dancing. After a _torturously_ slow song in which she says “I miss my friend” about a million times, she feels the song end and she immediately bolts to her feet from the position she had been trapped in. 

Simon seems stuck in his seat, face unreadable.

Zoey feels like she needs to just say something, _anything_ , but the words stick in her throat before she even knows what they would be. 

“Hey, Zoey?” Luckily, Max appears at the door and saves her from saying anything. “I’ve got a question about some code and need to rubber-duck it.”

She hopes her relief doesn’t show too much on her face, but any hope at hiding her emotions flew out of the window the moment the first note poured out of her mouth this morning. She beelines to him, only pausing to collect her shoes, and practically sprints away from the meditation room. In her haste she almost doesn't notice the lingering look Max gives Simon before following her, letting the door fall closed.

Almost.

“So, what’s the problem?” Zoey practically falls into her chair, tugging her shoes on. “Rubber-duck ready and waiting.”

“So, that was a lie,” Max starts, setting down his tablet. “The code’s running smoothly. Well,” He shoots a glance over at Tobin, deep in his own work, “Except for that, but he said no one is allowed to help him.”

Zoey frowns. “I never said that. Wait if, there’s no coding problem…”

Max just shrugs. "I heard you singing, thought you might want an excuse to get the hell out of there without explaining.”

Her frown morphs into a grateful smile. “You were right. Thanks again, Max.”

“Hey, you can count on me.” He winks at her with a cheeky grin, and she just rolls her eyes at his not-so-subtle reference to her earlier heartsong.

\-----------------------------

Zoey paces in front of Simon’s office, mentally preparing herself to walk in there and explain the meditation room incident, when a hand touches her elbow out of nowhere. She whirls around and finds Max, instantly relaxing. After her talk with Joan about _I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus_ and her and Leif’s kiss (apparently Leif and Tobin have an open relationship? She still needs to look up what that means) and the news that Danny Michael Davis approved of both her panic attack slash heartsong and the Chirp, she feels a lot less stressed out than this morning.

Of course, the SPRQwatch’s calendar is still messed up, and her mom keeps trying to call her, and her dad…

And she sang to Simon. She needs to explain what happened to Simon, but she’s not sure she’s ready to tell another person about her powers. 

Thus, the pacing.

“I can talk to him,” Max offers, silently reading her mind. Is she sure he doesn’t have powers of his own? “You’ve done a lot today. You sang _I Miss My Friend_ , right? I looked it up,” He adds on before she can ask. “Just… stay here. I’ll talk to him.”

Zoey smiles at him, nodding softly. “Like four, three, two?”

He grins at her own reference to her -- _their_ \-- song, before patting her shoulder once and walking into Simon’s office, closing the door behind him.

She can’t make out their conversation, which she’s both glad and scared about. What are they saying? Is it about her? Is Max revealing her secret to--

Oh.

Zoey watches, frozen, as Max and Simon separate from a kiss that must leave both of them shellshocked, because neither of them move for a second afterwards. Then, suddenly, a flurry of activity occurs, and Simon is heading her way with a dazed look on his face and she has to scramble to move out of his way before he runs her over.

He doesn’t even notice, but she doesn’t blame him.

\-----------------------------

It’s the end of the day, _finally_ , but Zoey remains stuck in her chair as the rest of the programmers say their goodbyes and leave for the weekend. She doesn’t want to leave the office; leaving the office means facing the rest of the world, which she’s been expertly avoiding in her own opinion.

Tobin and Max are the last ones there with her, but shortly after she has that thought Tobin shoots his hands up and whoops, doing a lap in his desk chair in celebration. Turns out that he fixed the glitch that he’s been working on all day, and she has to smile and reassure him that he did a good job, and should meet up with his boyfriend to celebrate.

Then he’s gone, and it’s just Zoey and Max.

“Your mom’s called me about a dozen times,” He breaks their silence, and suddenly she can’t look him in the eye. “You only started singing when you came back from your dad’s appointment.”

She closes her eyes, trying to inhale evenly. There it is. Exactly what she doesn’t want to talk about.

Max must notice her lack of a response, because suddenly he’s crouching next to her and turning her chair to face him. “Zoey,” He speaks softly, “Let me in.”

Something cracks within her, and she _does_.

By the time she’s done spewing her entire mental state to him in a jumble of words (she’s fairly sure she mentioned at least one of the two ill-advised kisses she’s witnessed at the office in the past month, but she doesn’t know which one) her body seems to have run out of tears and her grip on Max’s hand is vice-like, her only connection to her body.

“So… yeah.” Zoey finishes lamely, sniffling a little but too scared that she’ll disappear if she lets go of Max for any reason at all.

“I think the universe is trying to tell you to… face the music, Zo.”

She gives him a look at his choice of words, but her heart isn’t in it.

He offers a soft smile, eyes patient. “I’m serious. All day, you’ve been laying down truths to the people around you, but there’s one more that you’ve been hiding from.” He lets go of one of her hands, moving up to wipe her cheek with his thumb. “He’s your father, Zoey. Talk to him.” He doesn’t say it, but Zoey hears it loud and clear. _While you still can._

She closes her eyes again, leaning into his hand slightly. “Okay.” She barely gets the word out, but he hears it nonetheless. After a quiet moment between them, she opens her eyes again. “But we’re sitting down and talking about what happened in Simon’s office sometime soon.”

Max’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t move away. “I forgot you saw that.”

“I didn’t.” She smiles weakly at him, before pulling away. “But not tonight.”

“Yeah,” He agrees. “Not tonight.”

\-----------------------------

“Hey, Dad.” Zoey notices Howie pull her mom away from the living room, and Emily leads David in another direction, and she sends a silent thanks out to her family as she sits next to her dad on the couch. “My day has been… crazy, to say the least.” She finds herself recounting all of her various songs to him, as well as what happened outside of her Zo-ality, and feels herself grow both a little lighter and heavier with each word.

Finally, she runs out of things to talk about that aren’t… him, and she feels her face crumple up as a lump forms in her throat. She swallows it, though, and leans into his shoulder. “To be honest… I’ve been avoiding thinking about losing you all day. I feel like I’ve been grieving for months, already, but now the fact that I’m _losing_ you is all too real and… I ran away, when I didn’t have anywhere to run _to_ , and…” Another song starts, and Zoey is too emotionally exhausted to fight it, ending the song by sobbing into his shoulder.

The tears run their course eventually, and Zoey spares one thought about how that last song felt final before slipping off into a dreamless sleep right there, next to her dad.

\-----------------------------

She wakes up with both a sense of familiarity and strangeness floating around her head and an ache in her back which can only mean one thing: she fell asleep on her parents’ couch and stayed there all night. Opening her eyes confirms that theory, though she appreciates whoever gave her a blanket and pillow.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Her mom’s teasing voice drifts over to her from the kitchen, and she blames her barely-awake mind on sticking her tongue out at her. “There’s coffee and sausages waiting for you.”

 _That_ pulls Zoey off of the couch and into the kitchen, because both she and her mom know that her mom’s sausages are her favorite breakfast food. She gives her dad a small kiss on the forehead as she passes his seat at the table, waving slightly at Howie on her way to the coffee pot. “I didn’t mean to crash on the couch,” She apologizes, but her mom is hearing none of it.

“You know you’re always welcome. Now eat,” She commands, and Zoey complies happily.

It’s quiet for a while, but Zoey doesn’t mind. It’s been a while since she’s just… existed, with her parents, and she missed it. So much has happened since she was last like this… “Oh!” She exclaims, “I just remembered. I found a term for myself, and I wanted to let you guys hear it.”

Her mom sits down next to her dad, and she knows that she has their full attention. She looks to Howie, eyes conflicted, and he stands to leave. “I’ll give you some alone time,” he says, patting her shoulder as he passes by, and Zoey realizes just how _fatherly_ Howie is. She appreciates his ability to read the room, and she mutters out a thanks before she realizes it.

With the caretaker gone, Zoey turns back to her parents and smiles. “So, you know how I… don’t want to date?” She winces at her words, but her dad’s single buzz and her mom’s nod reassures her. “Well, the identity I found after a thorough google search and the help of Mo is called ‘aroace.’ It’s short for aromantic and asexual,” She explains, encouraged by the receptive look her parents hold. “And it simply means a lack of both romantic and sexual attraction. I mean, you two have enough for all of us,” She jokes, and smiles widely when her mom laughs at her dad’s buzz of agreement. “So, yeah.”

“Thank you for telling us,” her mom starts, “And for trusting us with this.”

Her dad simply presses his buzzer again.

Zoey smiles and moves around the table to hug them one at a time. “I’ll let Howie know he can come back, I should go and change,” She makes a show of itching her side, “These are work clothes, not sleep clothes.”

Her parents let her go happily, and Zoey walks out of their house with a smile on her face that doesn’t leave her until Mo ambushes her on the stairwell outside of her apartment. “Okay, Zoloft, can you _please_ tell me why Maxamillion showed up at my apartment after work last night in the middle of a freakout?”

Zoey just waves Mo into her apartment, beelining to her bedroom to change. “It might have something to do with Simon kissing him yesterday and then leaving for the day.”

At some point between Zoey saying those words and Zoey taking her shirts off, Mo has managed to materialize on her bed and scare the shit out of her. While her heartbeat returns to a human pace, he completely ignores that fact that she’s half-dressed and refuses to leave until she tells him the whole story of yesterday. After she tells him about her _literal_ panic attack during the meeting which just so happened to correspond with _Pressure_ , she gets over some mental block that prevented her from moving and pulls on a NASA t-shirt and some sweatpants while Mo is still in the room.

It helped that Mo averted his eyes while she changed, but she’s too engrossed in recalling the previous twenty-four hours to really care. 

Eventually she hits the part where the kiss occurred, and Mo finally interrupts. “So let me get this straight,” he starts and they both snort at his word choice before moving on. “Simon starts catching feelings for you while engaged, stops himself thanks to you, and now, while _still engaged_ , kisses your best friend?” 

Zoey shrugs, joining him on her bed. “I mean… yeah?”

Mo shakes his head. “Oh, Simon and I are gonna have _words_.”

“Please don’t murder my friend.”

“Let me talk to him before I respond to that request.”

“Only if I get to help Max process the kiss first?”

Mo hums. “Fine. What food do you have?”

“Popcorn and two day old Thai food?” Zoey breaks into laughter at the look of disgust on Mo’s face. “I think there’s some lettuce from the last time Max forced me to buy adult food.”

Mo gives her a suspicious look. “Nevermind child, I’m feeding you. Let’s migrate to my place.”

\-----------------------------

Zoey doesn’t let movie night start until Max tells her more about his kiss with Simon, because he’s so obviously desperate to talk about it that Zoey notices before he even walks into her apartment. 

According to Max, the story is simple.

Max entered Simon’s office and asked about the meditation room, mentioning that Zoey had had a weird day and it was manifesting in singing. 

Simon said that the song confused him. He thought they were already friends; why sing about missing him? And some of the words could have been more than friendly, even though they _agreed_ that they’d only be friends.

Max had said something about how Zoey wasn’t one for dating so there was no ambiguity there, not sure how much Simon knew about LGBTQ+ identities and not wanting to digress too far. Max had then assured Simon that he was attractive, so Jessica was super lucky, and then, suddenly, they had been kissing.

Max broke it off, he recalled, but the two of them didn’t move away from each other immediately.

Then they left the office, and that was that, according to Max.

As he finishes this tale, Zoey frowns. “So you don’t know why he kissed you?”

“No,” Max groans, falling back onto the couch, “And it’s driving me crazy. I mean, I don’t even care about _pursuing_ this, especially since he’s _engaged_ , but I just want to hear an explanation, you know?”

Zoey hums in agreement, but tilts her head. “And… how do _you_ feel about all of this?”

Max looks over at her, still flopped backwards. “I feel like shit.”

“At least you’re honest,” Zoey jokes, and she feels triumph flare up at his small smile.

“Honest and confused,” Max confesses. “I mean, Simon is handsome, yeah, and there was that one time I woke up wi--” He clears his throat, “Sorry, TMI. But… I can say that Simon is attractive, and a hell of a kisser.”

Zoey eggs him on, knowing he needs the push. “But…”

“But he’s _engaged_!” Max throws his hands in the air, clearly frustrated. “Engaged, apparently into guys, and _unreadable_. He gave me no warning about the kiss, clarified _nothing_ afterwards, and just _left_ to go home to his fiancée.” Zoey’s close enough to him to hear him mutter, “It was a really good kiss, too.”

She looks down at her hands, mentally debating whether to drop the topic or not. A mental reminder of her own crazy Friday causes her to sigh, gathering courage. “Okay. So here’s your attack plan: You are going to forget about this for the weekend. On Monday morning, you are going to march into Simon’s office and talk to him about the kiss. I’ll cover for you, whatever it takes. Okay?”

Despite the firmness of Zoey pulling out her manager voice, Max smiles at her. “Well, seeing as you didn’t give me much choice on the matter, I have to say okay.”

She pushes his shoulder and he makes a big show of falling over that makes her laugh, which makes _him_ laugh, and yeah, so they didn’t get around to a movie tonight. So what? She gets to just _exist_ with her friend.

\-----------------------------

Zoey feels her headphones being pulled off of her head before she registers anyone near her, and any attempts at staying in her little coding zone are thwarted by Max greeting her in an urgent tone. “Hey, Zo, I…”

She doesn’t let him finish, setting her code to run and turning around in her seat. “Where’s the body?”

“The-- what?” Max pulls back, confusion clear on his face. If he isn’t getting her joke, this must be serious. 

Zoey waves his concern off, standing up. “Nevermind. What’s up?” She leads him to the swinging chairs (thankfully abandoned) as she asks, surprisingly not needing a heartsong to know this conversation should be private.

“Did I sing at any point today?” Max sits down and immediately starts a soft motion in his chair, looking over at her as she does the same. “Because this move is entirely too intuitive to come from you.”

She just shrugs. “No, actually; this just felt like a private conversation. Speaking of,” Zoey imitates the body language of those who are intently listening, “What’s wrong?”

Max must realize she’s noticed his deflections, because he sighs. “Ava Price offered me a promotion on the sixth floor. She wants me to be their manager of engineering.”

“Max, that’s _great_!” Zoey exclaims, but pauses when he doesn’t share her enthusiasm. “Is it?”

“I don’t know if I should take it or not.”

“Well, pro and con it.” 

Max shoots her a look as she picks his preferred form of talking through something difficult, and she shrugs. “Well… It would be a step forward in the company. I’d get to head up my own team, build something great, be a leader.”

Zoey is silent, but he stops talking. “And the cons?”

He takes another look at her and shrugs. “It’s selfish, but I wouldn’t be working across from you anymore.”

She smiles at him. “Well, as your boss I’d hate to see you go, but as your friend, how can I tell you to stay?” Zoey pushes her chair swing and gets close enough to grab his hand. “Max, this is a huge deal. Seriously, how can you even consider turning it down?” Their chairs stop moving, and she calms down a little as well. “I’ll miss you, but it would be entirely too selfish of me to ask you to stay.”

That breaks through to Max, apparently, because he offers her a half-grin. “But who else can you _count on_ down here?”

“I’ll have you know that Simon is _my_ friend, too,” Zoey retorts with no bite.

Max laughs, but his heart doesn’t seem to be in it, because he hops up and starts a heartsong. Zoey manages to understand about half of the lyrics (it’s wordy and he’s singing fast), but the meaning is clear enough as it winds down.

Before she can hint at it after it ends, Max narrows his eyes. “I just sang to you, didn’t I?”

She just nods. “Something about me putting up more of a fight.”

He sighs, leaning back into his chair. “As great as it is to hear that you’ll miss me, Zoey, I wanted to hear you try to convince me to stay.”

Zoey frowns, knowing that she’s missing something obvious. “But… why?”

“Why?” Max stands up, suddenly angry, and Zoey makes the connection she missed earlier (a half-forgotten conversation from a few years back pops into her head; talks of quizzes and finding their love languages filter through her thoughts). “To show that you care.”

Something in his tone makes her feel the need to match it. “I _do_ care!” She stands up as well, pointing in at her chest. “I care so much, Max; you moving up is going to _suck_!” As she talks, Zoey once again thinks of those love language quizzes. “You know as well as I do that my favorite thing in the world to do is just sit in the same room as you and do nothing, so suddenly losing the opportunity to work with you for eight hours is practically a nightmare. But I won’t tell you to stay, because that is the worst option. Think about it; you still have _whatever_ is happening with Simon down here,” She gestures towards their friend’s office, “And really, the only thing keeping you down here is _me_.”

Max scoffs. “What, so you’re not going to fight me?”

“ _Yes_!”

They’re silent for a beat. Just as Max looks like he’s leaving, Zoey sighs and looks down.

“I just…” She speaks in a softer tone, any frustration she had well and truly gone. “I don’t understand why you want a reason to say ‘no’ so badly.”

He’s quiet for a long time. Zoey almost thinks he’s walked off before he responds, also in a softer tone, “That makes two of us.”

\-----------------------------

The next day Zoey is busy showing Abigail around SPRQpoint with the help of Tobin (that man surprises her every day), so she doesn’t have any spare time to talk to Max or Simon about yesterday. She knows Mo invited Simon and Jessica over for dinner last night, but she couldn’t get a rundown from Mo about what happened before work, so she is entirely unprepared to run into Simon while giving Abigail her tour.

“Simon, hey,” Zoey starts lamely. “Uh, this is Abigail, she’s considering an internship here if her trip to Kenya doesn’t pan out.”

Simon smiles. “Only considering an internship, huh?” He turns to Abigail. “What’s stopping the Kenya trip?”

 _My dad_ , Abigail signs (and Tobin interprets). _He’s worrying over nothing and trying to ban me from going._

Simon shakes his head. “Overprotective?”

Abigail smiles, laughing. _At least_.

“Well, SPRQpoint would be lucky to have you if he doesn’t come around to it. Can I borrow Zoey for a minute?”

Zoey doesn’t know what Simon wants, which scares her, so she starts to make excuses, but Tobin cuts her off. “Don’t worry, Z-Dog, I got it.” With no room to argue, Tobin leads Abigail away, heading towards the snack bar next.

Zoey, defeated, turns around to Simon. “What’s up?”

He looks down, then back to her. “I… I need to talk to someone about this, and I trust you.”

She has a sneaking suspicion that she knows what he’s going to talk about, but she doesn’t let it show on her face (a testament to her growing skills). “Okay? Shoot.”

“What would you do if you were engaged but that relationship is straining despite your best efforts and then you kiss someone who isn’t your fiancée and haven’t told anyone about said kiss but it’s tearing you up inside?” Simon rushes it all out in one breath and Zoey blinks, processing what he says.

“Well…” Zoey starts, “I would start by being honest?” She winces. “No, that came out wrong.” She hums, trying to gather her thoughts. “Okay… I don’t see myself ever getting into this situation in the first place, but hypothetically I would talk to my fiancée about our strained relationship. I wouldn’t bring up the kiss unless it needs to be said.” She doesn’t push, doesn’t ask who he kissed, or even mention pronouns, and he seems glad that she doesn’t. 

“That…” Simon trails off, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Zoey.”

“What are friends for?”

\-----------------------------

After a thoroughly enjoyable conversation with Abigail and Howie about her now-upcoming trip to Kenya and another thoroughly embarrassing conversation about her brother’s sex life (thanks, heartsongs), Zoey is ready to relax at home on Thursday night.

So she’s in her “no-people” clothes when a knock sounds from her door. She is thoroughly surprised to find Max on the other side, but lets him in anyways. 

“Not that I’m complaining,” Zoey jokes, “But what’s wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Max clarifies quickly. “I just… needed to tell you stuff in person. You deserve to hear these face to face.”

“Plural?” 

He nods. “I decided to accept Ava Price’s offer. You’re right; this is overall a good thing, and… I’m just scared of changing too much.”

Zoey smiles. “Can I hug you for that, or would you rather the celebration wait?” Max rolls his eyes and initiates the hug himself, letting Zoey relax into it. “I’m proud of you, by the way,” She says into his shoulder. “Now we’ll both be managers; I can share some techniques that might help you, later.”

“I’d like that,” Max replies, obviously thinking of something else. Zoey pulls back from the hug when she hears that, giving herself a little pat on the back for not needing a heartsong to figure it out. “So, the second thing I came to talk to you about: I talked to Simon. I clarified where I stood on the kiss, and anything regarding pursuing something.” He pauses. “I said no.”

The way he explains it sounds as if he’s holding something back, but is scared to talk about it, so Zoey steps closer to him and takes his hand in hers. She stays silent; offering him a chance to be honest with himself.

Max stays quiet for a moment, but squeezes her hand softly. “I think I have feelings for him,” He confesses, voice wavering. “Genuine, real feelings, Zoey.”

She doesn’t say anything; just pulls him into another hug. This time he clings, breaths shuddering as he holds back tears for reasons Zoey can’t even begin to understand. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m here.”

Her evening plans might not have been to hold her best friend while he cried over their other friend, but she’s content to let it happen.

\-----------------------------

Her Friday is going incredibly: she let Max do a trial run of managing her team for the morning and she gave him a few notes and suggestions during their lunch break, she confirmed Game Night for tonight with her mom (and promised to bring Max since he missed the last Game Night), and progress for the Chirp is going smoothly. 

She honestly forgets about Simon and Max’s whole situation until she witnesses Simon and Jessica (who she swears isn’t in the building) perform a heartsong together. Zoey doesn’t get the chance to ask if he’s okay, however, because the song ends when the elevator doors close with him inside, heading down.

Instead, Zoey texts him. The joys of the twenty-first century.

She gets a really vague response, but understands the general tone of _I need to disconnect and take a break from reality_ , so she just lets him know that she’s there if he needs to talk to someone and lets it be. 

“And that’s the last I heard from Simon,” Zoey finishes, not settling in like she usually does. “I think I’m just going to let him figure some stuff out and give him the space to come to me if he wants it.”

“You know, pre-powers Zo Peep would have had a very different reaction,” Mo points out, doing something or other like he usually does while she’s over. “Are you going to sit?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t, I need to meet up with Max and head to Game Night.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to give something to Maggie,” Mo remembers, “For watching you during the engagement party. Would you bring her it?”

Zoey follows him into the kitchen, where he produces a bottle of wine. “I mean, sure? If you want to give her something…”

He simply pushes the bottle into her hands. “It’s the least I can do. Have fun, I have a date with Eddie planned, and you need to not be here when he arrives.”

Zoey makes a face at that. “Ew.”

“Just because _you’re_ asexual doesn’t mean _everyone_ is, Zo-zo. Now, go!” With some light teasing, Mo quite literally shoos her out the door.

__Zoey’s laughter carries her down to the street (with her habitual knock on Bonnie’s door to let her know her comings and goings; they’re still working on her agoraphobia, and she appreciates knowing when Zoey’s in the building) and off to the Golden Gate Grind, where she and Max agreed to meet up earlier._ _

__“Guess what?” Max greets, a smile on his face._ _

__Zoey notices his hands behind his back. “What?”_ _

__“I,” Max proclaims, producing two cups with a familiar logo, “Am officially allowed back into our favorite coffee shop.”_ _

__“No way,” Zoey says. “How did Pedro let you in?”_ _

__She accepts a cup, delighted to find a decaf version of her favorite drink (she is no longer allowed caffeine after six thirty unless she wants a musical fever dream that night, which she mentioned to Max only once). “Apparently Autumn talked him down from outright hostile,” Max explains, sipping his own drink. “I guess there’s a plus side to still being friends with your exes.”_ _

__“You mean _my_ ex.”_ _

__“Tomato, tomato.”_ _

__“You just said ‘tomato’ the same way twice,” Zoey points out. Max just shrugs._ _

__\-----------------------------_ _

__Zoey is surprised to see Abigail at Game Night, but her mom explains that she invited her, “Since her flight is this weekend and Howie is mostly here.”_ _

__“Oh, yeah, Max, you didn’t meet Abigail, did you?” Zoey recalls, knowing that he was busy during her tour of SPRQpoint._ _

__“No,” He admits, “But I am delighted to meet you. Where are you going?”_ _

__As Abigail and Max fall into conversation Zoey pulls her mom into the kitchen, leaving Emily and David to sit with her dad. “A gift from Mo,” She explains, pulling out the wine. “For babysitting me at the party. He insisted.”_ _

__“Well, who am I to pass on free wine,” her mom teases, taking the bottle. “He has taste; this is good stuff.”_ _

__Zoey sits at the kitchen counter quietly as her mom puts the wine away, quiet._ _

__Her mom knows her too well and quickly asks, “What’s wrong?”_ _

__“It just doesn’t feel real.” They both know what she’s talking about. “It’s getting worse, but I still feel like it’s three months ago. Everything and nothing has changed.”_ _

__Her mom says nothing, simply hums and joins her. They sit, quiet for a minute, content to just coexist._ _

__“I love you, Mom.”_ _

__“I love you, Zoey.” Her mom stands up. “We’ve been hiding for long enough; let’s get Game Night started.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you might notice that Count On Me (by Bruno Mars) is the only heartsong I've given full lyrics to in this fic; I felt it was important to give them to Zoey, since it's so different from I'm Yours and Max and Zoey use it as an inside joke.
> 
> You'll also notice that Max and Zoey are much closer in this fic! The au kicks into high gear in this chapter, so expect the family beats from the show from now on to be the same (I gloss over most of them since I'm focusing on where the story diverges from canon).
> 
> we're gonna have five chapters: four for season 1, and an epilogue with some Fun Stuff i have planned!
> 
> As always, leave a comment, add some kudos! I love to hears yall's favorite lines

**Author's Note:**

> So, thoughts? Comments, kudos, any reaction is much appreciated.
> 
> find me at judastarkid on tumblr!


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